


Where the Fever Lies

by pirlepet



Category: Fate/Prototype, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Biting, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fondling, Foot Jobs, Forced Marriage, French Kissing, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Indecent proposals, Loss of Virginity, Love Bites, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsession, Saber suffers so beautifully, Sexual Menace, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, being saber is suffering, myrddin ferch emrys is not a licensed psychotherapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-24 08:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 96,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirlepet/pseuds/pirlepet
Summary: He makes them an offer they can't refuse. Vae victis.AU of Fate/Prototype where Lucius Tiberius is summoned as Rider instead of Perseus.





	1. Prologue

Caster’s workshop was eerily quiet, all its defenses down. Ayaka saw the dagger as soon as they’d come in, buried in the wall almost to its hilt. 

Someone had thrown that dagger very hard in order for that to happen. 

Too quiet. The place was a bit of a mess, artifacts and supplies jumbled everywhere, but not in a way that necessarily suggested a struggle. Some mages just weren’t tidy. Saber paced the workshop, hands clenched on the hilt of the holy blade, his eyes wary. While he looked around, she went to the dagger, sensing the magic radiating from it. Some kind of magic-cancelling spell, her tentative probing revealed. Powerful. Still active. It took some work, but she managed to pry it free from the wall, thrust it through her belt. Better it in their hands than the enemy’s. Or whoever...or whatever...that dagger had been thrown at.

Then Saber discovered the hidden door, and the stairs that led down into darkness.

He told her to stay upstairs but she’d insisted on following, pointing out that someone could easily come in and surprise her alone. They’d picked their way down the stairs, not wanting to draw attention with a light. The stairs seemed endless, the air becoming colder and colder as they descended.

Ayaka was the first to hear the strange sound coming from below. A rattling, clicking, rasping noise. Steady and metallic. A noise, moving somewhere in the dark. Ayaka’s knees started shaking. Her head felt hot and odd. Why did this suddenly seem familiar? she had thought wildly. Where had she heard something like this before...?

A thin line of light shone ahead.

Saber’s hand reached out and moved the line of light, very gently.

The door opened and at first Ayaka couldn’t make out what she was looking at. Grey light filled the room, but somehow everything was still dark. Then Ayaka had seen the huddled shape on the floor, and the black figure that crouched above it.

The black figure bent and swayed, bent and swayed. It pulled something from the shape on the floor over and over again. The clicking noise went on and on. Then the figure stopped, straightened up and looked at them. 

Saber’s entire body went rigid. “No,” he said, his voice so strained it was almost unrecognizable. “It can’t be.”

The black figure tilted, as if it was putting its head to the side. “Ah. Pendragon,” it said. It’s voice buzzed and clicked. “So soon? No matter. This work is done.”

Excalibur was bright silver in the darkness, unwavering in Saber’s hands. “How?” he said, his voice still thick with disbelief. “You...the last Grail War...”

“The last Grail War,” the figure agreed. Ayaka never saw it move but suddenly it was much closer. “My mistress longs for you still.” It hovered before them, clicking away. Parts rose and fell, like it was agitated. “My orders. Pendragon. Once I have finished with the rest, I am to retrieve you.”

“Ayaka, run,” Saber said through clenched teeth. “Run now!”

“Ayaka?” the figure said with a thoughtful click. Fear froze her feet to the ground. “Ayaaaaaaaakaaaaaaaaa. She is part of my orders too.”

Saber shoved her and she ran, bolting back up the stairs. She heard stone break behind her, the clang of Excalibur’s blade. Wood split. She stumbled through the workshop door onto the street, dropped behind a nearby wall, panting. She peered out through a crack.

Where was Saber?

Before her, the workshop heaved and cracked, walls folding like fans. A face rose above the rubble on a tide of black shadow, golden eyes searching. A pale man’s face, turning slowly. Ayaka could see a white sleeve groping within the darkness. “Orders,” it said. “Orders. Orders.” A tendril of shadow came towards her, probing at the wall. She backed away on her hands and knees. “Orders.” White fingers gripped the wall. The man’s face rose slowly over the top, looked down at her. “Orders. Ayaka.”

She screamed. Then a number of things happened at once.

Shadow flowed towards her like water and she scrambled away. She wasn’t fast enough. The shadow snagged her foot and she fell. It coated her foot, swirled up her leg, began dragging her back. Her entire body went numb with fear and cold. She scraped at the ground, desperately trying to pull away, but the shadow held her like cement.

There was a quick wet noise behind her.

“Pendragon,” she heard. “Ah. Pendragon...”

Wind rushed past her and then Saber grabbed her hand, pulled her free of the shadow and ran. Ayaka looked behind them, just once. The shadow was still, a flat pool of blackness covering the ground.

A little further away in the pool lay a man’s head. 

Or half of it, anyway.

She closed her eyes and let Saber guide her, far, far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I hate Paracelsus. 
> 
> Unfortunately, he's probably not dead. Don't know if he'll ever reappear here though.
> 
> Proto Gilgamesh probably won't appear either because he breaks the plot too much. Sorry Goldie.


	2. Chapter 2

One mile.

Two miles.

Ayaka’s lungs were on fire. The dagger she had taken from Caster’s workshop dug into her waist with every step. Her feet ached but Saber still kept running, his hand tight in hers.

Sweat flew into her eyes. She panted, barely able to breathe. “Saber...” she tried to say. It came out as a croak. 

Saber’s head turned at her voice. His green eyes were bright with anxiety. “Just a little more!” he shouted and pulled her on.

Saber worried was a bad thing. Saber worried was a very bad thing. Ayaka tried to swallow. Tried _not_ to think about what they had just seen but visions of shadows and severed heads wouldn’t leave her. “Saber, I don’t think anything’s...following us.”

To her immense relief he finally slowed, then stopped. They stood on a quiet side street that Ayaka didn’t recognize, empty of everything except for themselves. Cars drove by in the distance. A luxury apartment building stood nearby, surrounded by small but expensive looking properties. “Yes, I think you’re right,” he said quietly, but his posture didn’t relax and he didn’t let go of her hand. 

Now that they had stopped, she could see what he’d been trying to hide during their flight. “Saber, you’re wounded!” His face and arm were dirty with blood. She could see more blood on his tunic by his right thigh, along with strange black streaks that looked like dried tar. His armor was dented and cracked, small pieces actually missing in some places. The metal on his left side looked _bubbled_ , as if it had been boiled. “Saber!”

He tried to smile reassuringly. “It’s not bad, Ayaka. My prana can take care of everything, given time.”

“Yes, but...” Was there also a rasping sound as he breathed, or was she imagining it? “W-What was that thing? It..it called you by name. It knew my name! That wasn’t Caster...was it?” 

By this time she knew Saber well enough that whenever he refused to look at her, it was a bad sign. He was doing it now. “I believe that the Caster of...this war...was what that...abomination...was feasting on.” His voice was grim. 

_This war. Why does “this war” keep coming up?_

Something inside her mind fluttered, trying to break free. Another Grail War...had there been another Grail War before? Her father’s personal effects had included a letter saying that she was supposed to fight in the Grail War when she grew older, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How could there have been _another_ Grail War?

Her stomach clenched so tightly it hurt. Inside her head, someone was screaming... 

“Ayaka. Are you well? You weren’t hurt by that creature, were you?” Saber was looking at her, his eyes dark with concern. He was close enough that she could smell the blood on his clothing.

She took a deep breath, pushed the images down and away. “Saber. That thing said “this war”. Just now, you said “this war”. Why,” she asked in a small voice, “do you keep saying that? Have you-” 

The air changed, filled with electricity. All the small hairs on Ayaka’s arms stood on end. In the distance, thunder rumbled. She could feel something immense drawing near, something smothering. Powerful.

“Ayaka, run and hide. Do not come out, no matter what happens.” Saber’s voice was far too controlled. “Now.”

“Saber...?”

He shoved her towards an alley besides the apartment building. “Ayaka, _please_. We can’t let him see you! Go! _Now!_ ”

She bolted towards the shadows. The fear she could sense from him compelled her feet like nothing else. Behind her, the presence shifted as if searching, grew, thickened. _Saber, please tell me what’s going on! Is it that shadow creature from before?_

_No. Worse._ His voice was bleak. _A man I once knew, from when I was alive. Lucius Tiberius. Emperor of Rome._

Ayaka was far enough down the alley that she could no longer see Saber. She crouched behind a stack of boxes, her teeth chattering. The air was so heavy it felt as if she was underwater. _An emperor? He’s here as a Servant?_

_Yes. Rider, if I’m not mistaken. He would have been summoned as a Saber, if I wasn’t already occupying the position. They called him the Sword Emperor. Sadistic, cruel, prideful beyond measure. A man who ruled his empire with an iron fist, who collected people and countries as another man might collect stamps._

“Is this real? Am I dreaming?” a voice said from somewhere high above them. _On the roof of the apartment building?_ A laughing voice, rich and deep, full of arrogance. “The Beast of Britain, bloody and broken? Have you met a beast that surpasses even you? My love, tell me it isn’t so.”

Ayaka’s blood froze. _Did he just call you...his love?_

_Yes. He’s delusional. He also believed himself to be a god upon earth._

“Sword Emperor,” Saber said, his voice flat and wary. 

“Pendragon,” the man replied. His voice was full of delight and something else. _Hunger...?_ “I told you, didn’t I? That we were the ones chosen by eternity.”

“You said something along those lines, yes.” Saber’s voice was still carefully unemotional.

“Fourteen hundred years.” The Emperor’s voice grew softer, deeper. “Ha! Not a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Dreamed of you. And here we are, once more. Admit it, Pendragon! I was right and you were wrong!” He laughed, loud and long. “Admit it! So does the world gratify a god’s desires!”

Ayaka slumped against the wall, her heart pounding. _Um, when you say he’s delusional...?_

_Unfortunately, his insanity doesn’t extend to his skill, or his strength._ There was a bite to Saber’s voice. _I won’t trouble you with all that he was capable of, but suffice to say, he is an_ **extremely** _powerful opponent. These...are not the circumstances I would have chosen if I were to be facing him._

“Sword Emperor, my desire is for you to turn around and leave,” Saber said. His voice was very quiet. “We will surely fight another day. Right now, there is something, larger than even the two of us-” 

“Owner of my heart, there is _nothing_ larger than the two of us.” Ayaka could _hear_ the smile in his voice even without seeing his face. “I’ll admit that I’d really prefer to face you at your full power, but...” She heard a ringing sound, like metal scraping against stone. “Did you really think I’d just walk away, after 1400 years? I told you before.” His voice grew louder. “Your Britain might be gone, but _you’re_ still here, Arthur Pendragon. I’ll grind you into the earth and make you mine, as promised.”

Her heart nearly stopped. _What...what does he mean,“make Saber his”?_

Ayaka’s vision started to blur. She’d heard...someone...say something like that before, hadn’t she? She felt the ground shake, looked down, noticed with vague surprise that her hands were trembling. Something about making Saber theirs. Anger, sharp and hot, started to rise inside her. _Who...who is_ **he** _to say something like that?_

_He’s going to fight Saber. Saber’s already wounded. He might lose._

She got up, slowly and carefully, felt the dagger in her belt bump her hip. She touched it, felt the weight, solid, reassuring.

The dagger that could cancel magic.

_I won’t let that happen._

There was a door halfway down the alley. She tried the handle; it was open. Inside was a stairwell, empty and dark. Rider must have done something to keep the people in the building from noticing what was going on. _Or he already killed them all._ Ayaka took a deep breath and started climbing.

_Ayaka, no!_ Saber’s mental voice was frantic. _What are you doing?_

_You heard him. He’s going to do awful things to you if you lose. I won’t let that happen. It’s not much, but I have the magic cancelling dagger. The spell on it is pretty strong. If I can get close enough to stab him..._

_There is no possible way you could stop him, Ayaka._ His voice was anguished. _Please, turn back-_

“Something wrong, Red Dragon?” The Emperor’s voice was audible even inside. “You look distracted. Not acceptable!”

Saber’s voice was low enough that she could only make out his tone, not the words. _Please buy me some time, Saber._ Fortunately, the building wasn’t a high-rise. _I’m almost there._

The door to the roof was also unlocked. (Later on, she would look back and wonder how she could have been so stupid.) Ayaka took the knife in hand, eased the door open, peered out. The roof before her was empty; therefore, Rider had to be around the other side. She slipped out, closed the door silently, stood for a moment hoping her heart would stop pounding so loudly.

_One chance. That’s all I have._

She tiptoed over to the edge of the stairwell wall, hesitated, then looked. 

A man stood at the edge of the roof, about fifty feet away, casually twirling a long blade in his right hand. Its edges glowed brilliant red in the cloudy light. He was tall-much taller than Saber-and broad-shouldered, his head topped with a shock of blood-red hair, his body draped in an elaborate black coat. 

Ayaka bit her lip. That coat made it difficult to tell where he might be vulnerable. _He’s wearing armor underneath,_ Saber said, his mental voice weary. _Full plate, but there are gaps covered by padding. You...might be able to get him where the chest plate meets his hip guard, on the side. Or his throat. The gorget doesn’t cover his entire neck._

“Let’s get on with it, Pendragon,” Rider said as she crept closer, trying to stay directly behind him. “Shall I descend, or will you rise? Your choice. It’ll be fun either way.”

“If you continue to insist on this farce, then I’d much prefer that we move to a less-populated area, thank you. I know _you_ don’t care, but I will not brandish Excalibur in the midst of thousands of innocent lives,” Saber said, his voice tight.

“Thinking of the valley, are we?” Rider began laughing again, the sound echoing off the buildings around them. “The way the land just disappeared into ruin under the sweep of your sword! Beautiful! I treasure that memory...but let me ask you something, Pendragon.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the little bird sneaking up behind me?” Rider said in the same easy tone and whirled on her, sword upraised. Light streamed from it, turning the world a bloody red.

_Ayaka!_

She had only enough time to see sharp white teeth in a broad grin before she dived to the ground to avoid the Emperor’s blade. The air whistled over her head. She rolled onto her back, felt rock and grit digging in. Her foot struck something hard, metallic. Rider’s armored foot. Rider was standing directly over her. The tip of his sword lay right next to her cheek. 

Pure fear gagged her. All she could do was stare up at him. Every muscle in her body had locked.

“You have other things to worry about right now, Pendragon,” Rider said, his eyes fixed on her. They were violet, as unnatural as his crimson hair. “I’d like to speak to the lady alone...so do me a favor and entertain my men for a bit, will you?”

Shouts from below, the sound of sword on sword.

Rider tapped the flat of the blade against her cheek. It felt like a live coal striking her skin. She winced, her eyes swimming from the pain. “Get up, woman.”

She was trembling so hard she thought she would vomit. Somehow, she got to her feet, wondering as she did if she should just throw herself over the edge of the roof and save Rider the trouble.

The hilt of Caster’s knife vibrated softly in her hand.

_No_ , a voice deep inside her said very quietly. _Look closely at him. You still have the knife. Remember Lancer._

The Emperor grinned down at her, his sword propped on one shoulder. Through her terror she looked back at him, saw the vulnerable stretch of skin between chin and plate, saw the padding that covered the gap at his hip.

_Sword’s not near you. Remember Lancer. One chance!_

“Has Pendragon fallen so far as to think _you_ were a good plan? A insignificant looking woman with a toy knife,” the Emperor said softly, startling her. His eyes roamed over her body, cataloging her, and she felt anger cut into her fear. “But-” 

_One chance! Remember Lancer!_

Ayaka snapped her hand out and hurled her feather darts right into that hatefully smiling face.

She would never be faster than him, but she could take him by surprise. 

He swore and beat at his face. In the two seconds it took him to do it, she ducked under his arm and drove Caster’s knife straight into his side. Pushed the folds of his coat aside, turned to run.

The Sword Emperor grabbed her arm and kicked her in the stomach. Pain, like nothing she had ever felt before, ripped through her. Her body boiled, then went icy. Fog smeared her vision. Her feet left the ground. She floated through the air as the ground rushed at her, screaming. She landed hard, sending more jolts through her arms, legs, back. The impact drove her teeth into her tongue.

_Ayaka! I’m coming!_ Saber’s voice blazed with anguish.

She moaned feebly. Her entire belly was one big crater of pain. Tears streaked down her cheeks. She could see Rider coming towards her through their blur.

Time crawled. She clutched at her stomach, trying to think through the pain. Even if this was the worst pain she’d ever felt in her life, she could tell that his blow was meant to hurt, not to kill. Rider could have sent her off the roof with that kick. He could have ruptured numerous internal organs easily. That he hadn’t...

Ayaka pushed up on her forearms. The movement sent fresh bolts of pains through her belly but... “Saber, don’t,” she choked out. Her bitten tongue burned with every word. “I’m all right-” 

Saber rushed over the side of the roof, borne by the wind, Excalibur poised to strike. Rider met the holy sword’s blow easily. Red against white. She could see blood on Rider’s side, dark against his armor. The air cracked. Gusts battered the buildings, sent debris flying. Ayaka yelped as some struck her, peppering her face and hands with dirt. 

The glow from Rider’s sword intensified. He stood there, laughing, bleeding, holding Saber at bay like a pack of wolves against a lone stag. Then Rider flicked his arm, like a man aiming at a fly, and swatted Saber away.

Saber hit the wall at the far end of the roof. He crouched there for a long fearful second while Ayaka’s blood turned to dust. Slowly, he rose. Rider moved between them then, blocked Ayaka’s view of everything except Saber’s feet. 

“The woman catches on faster than you do, Pendragon,” Rider said. She saw a dim image of him yanking out Caster’s knife and tossing it aside. “Hurt her a little and you come panting like a dog. Broke that icy composure, didn’t it?”

“Shut up.” Saber’s voice was gutteral with anger and something in Ayaka broke to hear it. “This ends _now_ , Tiberius.”

“It does,” Rider agreed, his voice serious, and leapt at Saber.

Saber drove him off, just barely. They circled each other, raining down blow after blow, the sound reveberating off the buildings as if a million swords were clashing with each other. Power bent the air. Ayaka struggled to her feet amid choking clouds of dust and prana. She hobbled forward. Everything hurt. Everything felt like a dream.

_Ayaka, run. Please run._

She shook her head, slowly. Through her strange dream-vision she could see Rider pressing down on Saber with all the force of a hurricane, Saber trying in vain to push back. _What’s the use?_ she thought dully, not so much to Saber as to herself. _He knows me now. He’ll just come after me if he defeats you._

They were good as dead anyway, so it no longer mattered what she did. Rider had his back to her again. He’d trapped Saber into a corner, hammering at him, laughing at him. Saber’s face was whiter than snow, his lips set in grim desperation. He was going to lose and he knew it.

_This is all my fault. So let me do something to make up for it._

Lightning struck nearby, outlined Rider with crackling light. He struck Saber with a blow like mountains breaking. Excalibur flew out of Saber’s hands, landed spinning across the roof. The Sword Emperor bellowed with laughter, triumphant, mocking. The ground shook beneath Ayaka’s feet. She stumbled but kept walking. Saber lay on his back, looking up at Rider. His face was empty with a dreadful calm. Rider raised that red sword...

...and Ayaka jumped on him and grabbed at it from behind.

It was like touching lava. It burned, burned through her skin and her bones and her heart but she kept hold of it, kept twisting it out of Rider’s grip, kept trying while the screams rose all around her, trying until everything stopped and went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucius Tiberius for those who aren't complete Prototype whores like myself: http://typemoon.wikia.com/wiki/Lucius_Tiberius
> 
> and the translation of the scene where he battles Arthur: http://forums.nrvnqsr.com/showthread.php/5621-Fate-Prototype-Fragments-of-Blue-and-Silver-Fan-Translation?p=2429347&viewfull=1#post2429347
> 
> He's Proto Arthur's Gilgamesh: owns everything in the universe, yandere, obsessive, possessive. Too bad for him that Saber killed him during their first and only battle. But now he's baaaaaaack...


	3. Chapter 3

Soft. There was something soft under her cheek. Like velvet. Ayaka was lying on something warm and soft that smelled like incense. Something equally soft had been placed over her body. A blanket. Her mouth was dry and tasted funny. Herbs, maybe. Bitter and sharp. The air smelled sweet but felt heavy, like the air before a storm. _Where am I?_

Her stomach barely hurt and if she concentrated, she could feel the tingle of residual magic. _Strong_ magic. Someone had brought her here, healed her, placed a blanket over her. _None of this makes sense_ , she thought, feeling panic squirm in her stomach. Where was Saber? Where had Rider gone?

_Saber?_

_Saber?_

_Please, Saber, answer me! Where are you? Saber!_

Her mental calls felt like they were slamming into a brick wall. _Feels like a magical barrier...that sweet smell in the air! Is someone blocking me? Oh god._

_Don’t panic, Ayaka. Think._

The last clear memory she had was grabbing at that sword of Rider’s as he’d swung at Saber. It had felt like shoving her hands in an inferno. Like hellfire. Her hands didn’t hurt either, she realized suddenly. Rider had kicked her. She’d burned her hands on his sword. Someone had used a _lot_ of magic to fix her up. She shivered. Who?

Had he...? No, couldn’t be. Rider was brutal, evil. She’d actually managed to stab him during their fight. He’d never have spared her. 

_I should have listened to Saber. I should have run and hidden like he’d told me to. I completely screwed it all up._

Hot tears prickled, but she squeezed her eyes until they went away. _Pull yourself together, Ayaka. You’re still alive and someone saved you and took care of you. Saber’s got to be fine. I’d know if something happened to him. I’d know..._

A warm hand brushed over her face and Ayaka stopped breathing. 

It stroked over her cheek, trailed down to her lips. A calloused thumb traced her jaw to her ear. A warm hand, a _large_ hand. Much bigger than Saber’s. Fingers smoothed her hair back off her face. One traced the dip behind her ear. She shuddered before she could stop herself. The owner of the hand leaned closer, their breath hot against her skin. Ayaka went completely still, except for her racing heart. 

She was going to die or faint.

Or both.

Someone laughed quietly. The hand tugged playfully at her earlobe, gave it a final caress and let go. Hot breath directly against her ear, and then a whisper:

_“I know you’re awake.”_

Panic broke her and she bolted. The hand snapped out and grabbed her ankle, holding her in place as easily as if she were a toy. She rolled onto her back, kicking out uselessly from sheer fright as Rider threw back his head and laughed. It echoed across the room like thunder. He pulled her to him, hooked a finger under the collar of her blouse and tore it open. 

Ayaka froze as he dragged a finger down her Master’s Degree. “Pendragon’s mistress, then. That explains _that_ ,” he murmured and looked her in the face, his violet eyes glittering with laughter and something else she didn’t want to think about. “What’s your name, woman?”

“A-Ayaka Sajyou,” she whispered.

“Ayaka Sajyou,” he repeated. The way he rolled her name over his tongue made her stomach clench. “The woman holding the beast’s leash. Nice to meet you.” His hand shifted from her chest to her back, moved her closer. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. “Lucius Tiberius. Since Pendragon didn’t bother to introduce us. Guess he wants to keep you all to himself. I know the feeling.”

If he came any closer, he’d be able to kiss her, Ayaka thought wildly. She could smell mint on his breath. The hand on her back started to move in warm, slow circles. “You’ve got guts, Ayaka Sajyou. You put all of your soul into that attack, even though you knew you didn’t have the slightest chance against me. I like that.” His forehead touched hers, his eyes boring into her own. A strand of his crimson hair tickled her cheek. His lips brushed hers, softly, almost chastely. “I like that a lot.” 

His mouth crushed down on hers before she could react, his tongue forcing its way past her teeth, twining against hers. She gagged, shoved at his chest and shoulders. It was like shoving an iron wall. Immovable. Lucius Tiberius moaned and tugged her up on his lap, catching her tongue and sucking it. The hand on her back slipped up her body. One finger played with the band of her bra, and Ayaka snapped. She wrapped her hands around his throat, dug her thumbs into the spots where his carotid artery would be if he were alive, and pressed _hard._

Lucius Tiberius shuddered. For a brief moment, Ayaka let herself believe she was actually hurting him. Then those sharp teeth nipped at her lower lip. He pulled away, collapsing into more of his heart-stopping laughter.

“That’s so good, lovely,” he gasped. “You’re no Red Dragon, but you’ve got more than a touch of the beast yourself, don’t you... _and that really turns me on_.” 

She twisted and bucked but his grip was too strong. The Sword Emperor’s laughter filled her ears as he trailed burning kisses up her throat and over her face, his tongue dragging hot over her cheek. He caught her with another brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue, groaning into her mouth. Her face and throat were wet with his saliva and her body felt like she’d grabbed his sword again, plunged into the inferno. 

His kisses turned softer, his grip loosening. The hand on her back nudged her forward, coaxed her to straddle his lap as his other hand skimmed over her hip. That hand stroked her thigh, began to lift her skirt and Ayaka sobbed in protest. Frantic, she wrenched her head to the side. Her glasses slipped down her nose, then fell off completely. Her mouth came free for a second before Rider chuckled indulgently and recaptured her, his lips gentle and mocking. 

Rage filled her as the world dissolved into a blur of red and black. Her lungs were on fire, the air burning, her skin burning under Rider’s hands. His tongue was flame in her mouth. It stroked hers, stealing her breath. Ayaka clawed at him, writhing and kicking. She wanted to tear flesh, wanted him to _hurt_. His eyes opened, brows drawing together. It looked almost as if he was studying her face. Then he pulled away from her mouth and moaned into her ear. 

“ _Yes._ Fight me, lovely, keep going, keep going,” he whispered and began to ease her down on the couch, shifting his body over hers. She kicked her legs up, aiming for his most vulnerable spot. He dodged her easily, then slid one of his legs between her thighs until his knee rested..

...right against...

_...there._

The Sword Emperor lifted his head slightly and grinned down at her. His nose rested against her nose, his breath warming her lips. 

His knee moved, just a little, rocked into her. Pleasure, sharp and horrible, ripped through her body. In response, Ayaka reached up, grabbed two fistfuls of that blood red hair and yanked.

_“Get off me!”_

Rider’s smile vanished. He looked at her for a long moment, then plucked her hands out of his hair. Crimson strands clung to her fingers, making them look like they’d been dipped in blood. He held them in his much larger ones, running his fingers over the backs of her hands, as if he was reminding her how easily he could break them. Then he sat up abruptly, pulling her to sit up with him. One hand pressed her against his chest. The other hand kept hold of hers.

“Mmm, I won’t say it,” he murmured. He caressed her hand, smiling like he was seeing some wonderful memory. Ayaka glared up at him. “There are standards.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers gently, turned her hand over, kissed her palm. His tongue made a wet path down the center and Ayaka felt that awful pleasure squirm within her again. Lucius Tiberius glanced at her, then took her index finger into his mouth, sucked it slowly. Her legs started to tremble, sweat pouring down her body. The hand on her back pressed her closer until she could feel his heart beating against her cheek. Not a millimeter between his body and hers. Their eyes met.

_Take off your clothes._

His words hung in the air, unspoken, but perfectly clear. Ayaka’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. The last time she’d been this frightened was the night Lancer had come to kill her and this time there was no Saber to rescue her. He was going to do it, he was going to lay her down and...and...and this time she wouldn’t be able to stop him, no matter how much she kicked and fought.

Even so...

_You take them off, I’m not going to!_

_Even if you rape me. Even if you kill me. Even if I can’t do anything. I’m not going down without a fight!_

She raised her head and looked at him, her eyes burning. The Sword Emperor smiled and released her hand. He lifted her chin and kissed her, softly, sweetly.

“It’ll feel good, Ayaka, I promise,” he whispered in her ear as she shook with fear and rage. He began to thumb open the remaining buttons on her blouse. Rider’s tongue traced a thin hot line over the top of her breast to her Master’s Degree, pressed a kiss directly over her heart. Snarling, she yanked his hair again, made him laugh. 

“Want to be on top? Shall I teach you to ride? I don’t mind. It’ll be better for you, deeper.” He lay back suddenly, pulling her down on top of him, her body flat over his, and kissed her fiercely. She could feel every inch of his body, hard muscle and...that...right against her...

His mouth muffled her scream of rage.

A voice split the air like a flash of lightning.

_“Get your hands off Ayaka.”_

Saber’s voice, quiet and deadly. 

Ayaka immediately twisted, trying to see, but Rider’s hands held her like iron chains. Lucius Tiberius grinned against her lips. Then he lifted his mouth from hers and laughed, loud and long. “Oh, my love,” he murmured. “See what happens when you keep me waiting? But what’s a few hours more after 1400 years? Especially--” he leaned forward again and lightly kissed Ayaka’s mouth, once, twice--“when you’ve given me such a fine woman to pass the time with.” He turned his head and looked at Saber, triumph glittering in his eyes. 

Released, Ayaka shoved with all her strength and managed to push away enough to sit up. A weight settled on her face. The room swam back into focus. She blinked, startled. Lucius Tiberius made a small adjustment to her glasses, smirked at her and nodded, as if giving her permission to look.

Saber was at the far end of the room, supporting himself with one arm on a door frame. He was breathing heavily, filthy and disheveled, his armor still shattered in places from the encounter with the shadow creature. Blood had trickled down his face from a gash on his forehead she didn’t recognize. She started to shake. Her anger had completely vanished, a numbing fear taking its place. Saber looked so...so worn, while Rider was obviously in peak condition and...

...where...was Excalibur?

The Sword Emperor sat up and pulled her back against him, wrapped one arm firmly around her waist. “Now that you’re awake, my heart,” he said in a surprisingly business-like tone, “let’s talk.”

“No,” Saber said immediately. “I know exactly what you’re going to propose. The answer is no.”

Another flash of Rider’s strong white teeth. Another burst of laughter. “Really, Pendragon? Beast you might be, but you’re in no position to dictate terms to _me_. I’ve got your sword in my treasury and your woman in my arms--” 

“She’s not my woman,” Saber said, voice low.

Lucius Tiberius raised an eyebrow. “No? Then tell me something, Red Dragon. Why do you still bleed like a human?”

A muscle jumped in Saber’s cheek. Slowly, painfully, he walked towards a table opposite from them and leaned against it. His hands clenched on the edge. “What makes you think I’m bleeding like a human?” he said. His voice was very soft.

“Don’t play coy, Pendragon. I know blood. You know how many Florent and I’ve battled, how many we’ve killed. I’ve wallowed in oceans of it, soaked in it, bathed in it,” Rider said, scorn in his voice. His hand slipped under her blouse, one finger drawing a warm line across her ribs. “It’s because you’re not completely dead yet, are you, Red Dragon? You still have some life in you.”

Ayaka stiffened and not just because Rider was stroking her back again. “W-What?”

He ignored her, his eyes riveted on Saber. “You fought in the last Grail War. The one that took place twelve years ago. You emerged from the last battle with a small child in your arms, left...ha... _the child_ with a mage family, and disappeared afterwards, like a proper Heroic Spirit should.”

_Last Grail War? So there was another Grail War? Saber was in the last Grail War? How does he know this? Saber won...and left a child behind...?_ Images whirled through Ayaka’s mind. A pit, clumps of girls all walking together. A muffled roar, like an underground ocean. Bodies falling into darkness, one by one. Her father screaming.

Her sister...covered in blood...

“Yes,” Saber said, very quietly.

“So far, so good. Ayaka.” She jumped at Rider’s voice, the images vanishing from her mind. “Tell me how King Arthur died.”

Lucius Tiberius’s eyes were still fixed on Saber. She licked dry lips. “Umm...King Arthur fell at the Battle of Camlann, slain by the traitor knight Mordred.” Pain flickered across Saber’s eyes but his expression didn’t change. “His loyal knight Bedivere took the king to a hill and stepped away for a moment. He turned back-” 

“-and found the king’s body gone, with only blood-soaked grass left behind to show he was ever there,” Rider finished. There was an edge of soft menace in his tone. “So, love. What...or _who_...was so important that you slipped through Death’s meshes, body and all?” 

Saber said nothing, but his hands gripped the table even more tightly.

“He came because of the holy relic in my body. He came because I was going to die!” Ayaka said before Saber could answer. “It’s not because I’m anyone important. It’s nothing like that. I’m the weakest Master, poor at everything. Saber deserves someone a lot better than me. So don’t think he came back for me.” She shuddered. She wanted the Sword Emperor to stop looking at Saber like that, cruel and hungry. Like he’d been starving for weeks and Saber was a fresh cut of meat. Anger began to swell inside her chest again, strong and bright.

Lucius Tiberius’s gaze left Saber, slowly shifted to her. He moved his other hand onto her thigh, thrust a finger into one of the holes in her tights, and stretched it wide. Ayaka closed her eyes. Fabric ripped. His hand was hot and dry on the inside of her leg.

“Weak?” he said into her ear. “Of course you are. But what the hell does _weak_ matter when you’re gutsy enough to stab me with a knife? If I didn’t think you worth anything, that pretty head would have left your pretty neck a long time ago.” He placed a kiss right on the pulse in her throat. “Look at me when I’m touching you, Ayaka.” His voice got louder. “Look at me when I’m touching _her_ , Pendragon. Let me see your lovely eyes.”

She forced her eyes open, forced herself to look at his face but Rider was looking at Saber, his grin taunting and malicious. “Better and better. But enough chatter. Let’s talk about my proposal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Ayaka: the idea in Prototype was that normally she's real meek and quiet and self-hating, but if she takes off her glasses she becomes a lot more aggressive and confident. More on that later.
> 
> The Throne of Heroes: enabling badtouch since the beginning of time.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sure you already know what I’m going to say, Pendragon. Same bargain I offered you 1400 years ago. I’m offering it again now, to the both of you. Join me. Become mine. Give yourselves to me totally. If you do, I’ll give you the world in return.”

Saber bit his lip, fighting back another wave of dizziness and nausea. Knowing what was coming did absolutely nothing to alleviate the deep fury and pain the Emperor’s words provoked in him. He took a hard deep breath, ignored the stabbing pain in his lung. Did his best to steady himself, tried to push away the feeling of total helplessness that was currently possessing his heart.

Trapped on the Emperor’s lap, Ayaka balled her hands into fists and said nothing. 

“Together we’d be unstoppable,” the Sword Emperor said softly, into the silence. “I’m not asking the two of you to like it. Just to accept it. Don’t fight me, take your rightful places at my side and the world will bend in our hands.”

Saber shut his eyes, unable to bear the Emperor’s smile and Ayaka’s miserable face any longer. _This is a futile effort but one I must make anyway._ He opened his eyes, looked straight into the Emperor’s mad violet stare. “If you leave Ayaka out of this, I’ll do anything- _everything_ -you want me to do.”

Tiberius’s smile was coldly disdainful. “Nice try, Red Dragon, but you and I both know you’re not that stupid. _‘Master and Servant are one flesh, one fate.’_ You and Ayaka are a package deal, two in one.” He pulled the neck of Ayaka’s blouse further open, bent his head. Put his mouth against Ayaka’s skin, kissed her softly at first, then-

She let out a strangled moan and the Emperor pulled away, smiling at the red mark he’d left on her throat. “Besides, did you really think that I’d forego the full banquet after such a delicious appetizer?” His fingers stroked down her arms, skimming the sides of her breasts. Ayaka shut her eyes, her jaw clenching. A wave of fury unlike anything Saber had ever felt before sucked at him, threatened to send him across the room to strike down the Sword Emperor where he sat, smirking at him. Rider cocked his head to the side, studying Saber’s face. His smirk deepened, as if Arthur’s expression had confirmed something.The Sword Emperor gently moved Ayaka off his lap and leaned forward, his violet eyes intent. 

“Accept my offer and you won’t need to worry about Ayaka any longer, my heart.” His voice was soft and oddly serious. “Wouldn’t it ease your mind to know that an extra pair of eyes, an extra sword, is protecting her? Should anything happen to you, I’ll keep her safe.” Rider’s eyes roamed Saber’s body and he knew without a doubt that the Emperor knew and had catalogued every wound on his body, the full extent of the damage he had suffered. “I’ll win the war for her. Nothing will touch her as long as I’m around. Nothing. Not the other Servants, not the weird figures my mages have seen darting around town, not that monstrosity that sent you two running early this morning. I swear it.”

Somehow Rider’s statement shouldn’t have surprised him but he felt the dull throb of shock in his stomach all the same. _Weird figures. Is he insinuating what I think he is? But no, this is not the time._ “You know what happened at Caster’s workshop.” It wasn’t a question.

Tiberius raised a hand, palm up. “Naturally,” he said easily. “My mages have been watching the two of you for the last four days, after all. Ever since I was summoned.”

Ayaka gasped. “Y-You...your mages have been watching us for the _last four days_?” Her voice trembled. “You have mages? How? But...but that means...”

“That you never had a chance? Of course.” Tiberius grinned at her, wrapped his arm around her waist again. “I’ve been biding my time, lovely. Studying you. Researching. Planning. Waiting for the right moment ever since my mages confirmed Pendragon’s identity for me.” His eyes met Saber’s. “Arthur. My love. After you killed me, I swore to myself that our next meeting would find me far better armed.”

“And so you watched.” The words were bitter on his tongue. _Four days._ It was like a blow to his heart. Tiberius’s mages had been among the finest in world, but to think that he had never suspected a thing...

The Sword Emperor nodded slightly in acknowledgment. “Understand, Pendragon? This was inevitable. If it wasn’t now, it would have been later this afternoon. Or this evening. Tomorrow morning. So don’t even think of blaming Ayaka for what she did. The trap the two of you so neatly fell into. It was stupid as hell, but she’d be dead right now if she hadn’t risked it all on one desperate chance.” His voice turned musing. “Or maybe not. I do have a soft spot for beautiful women, after all.” The smile that followed his words was very white and very sharp.

“A-and what happens,” Ayaka’s voice was so quiet it was nearly inaudible, “if we say no?”

Rider’s smile was sweet and terrible. “Then you _run_.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“You run, lovely. You and Pendragon. Leave here without a yes and I’ll spend the entirety of the Grail War hunting you down. I’ll harry you relentlessly, never give you a moment’s peace.” His eyes glowed, as if lit by fire from Hell. “Everyone who served me in life serves me still in death. My giants, my mages, my generals. Kings and queens, leaders of a hundred countries. All still under my command. They’ll get their orders. Think you can eliminate every single one of us, along with the other Servants? Think again. And if I catch you once more-” Rider’s burning gaze moved slowly between Arthur and Ayaka “-there won’t be any mercy. No second chances. I’ll kill _you_ this time, Pendragon. Why should I care? You and I are eternal, beyond death.” Rider’s voice dropped. “You’ll return to your bloody grass, Pendragon, but this time you’ll do so with failure carved into your soul and the knowledge that you’ve lost the Grail to me and of what I’m going to do to Ayaka when you’re gone _immolating_ you.”

Ayaka’s face turned blue, her lips moving soundlessly in shock.

“You goddamned _bastard_.” Saber was in front of Rider before he could stop himself, standing before Ayaka like a shield. He grabbed at the other man’s coat, hurling him forward by the collar, so close that Arthur could make out a very faint dusting of freckles over the Emperor’s nose. Pain distantly screamed at him. “You piece of _filth_. I don’t care what you do to me, but Ayaka-”

“Exactly,” the Emperor said, calm, unmoving. His serious face was somehow more frightening than his smiling one. “I know you don’t give a shit about yourself, my love. So I want to make it excruciatingly clear how very much you stand to lose.”

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” Ayaka whispered next to them. Saber glanced at her, unwilling to take his eyes off Rider for more than a moment. “I always knew the Grail War would be my death, but I didn’t think...I didn’t think it would be like this. Lancer should have just killed me.” Her last words ended on a sob and Arthur’s heart twisted. He hadn’t cried in years but now he could feel the unmistakable prickling of tears in his eyes. His vision started to blur. Rage, fear, sorrow. All of them cut off his breath and he gasped like a drowning man at the pain of it.

“But he didn’t, Ayaka. This is what you have to work with now,” the Emperor murmured in a strangely soothing tone. “Shhh. Let go, Pendragon.” The last was said in a voice of quiet command and reluctantly, Saber released him. 

Rider put both arms around Ayaka, bent his head to hers. She gave a short scream and struck out at him. Tears were streaming down her face. “Calm down, lovely. You’re tired and frightened, not thinking straight. Mages sacrifice to ally with each other all the time during Grail Wars. Hell, it’s something you’re already used to, isn’t it? I know you use your own blood instead of your doves every morning.” His voice dropped lower. “One little word and you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. I’m a hard man, sweet, but not an unfair one. Pendragon knows that I keep my word.” He slipped her glasses off, kissed her right eyelid, her left, her cheek while Saber stood there, paralyzed by fury, his body aching as if a million swords had been run through him.

The Sword Emperor turned his head and looked at Saber, his violet eyes knowing and worst of all, sincere. “Say yes and you’ll have my strength to add to yours. Say yes and I’ll hand you and Ayaka the world. I might even let you have the Grail, if I feel like it. Is giving yourself to me really too high of a price?”

Silence. Then-

“I-I’d like to speak with Saber please. Alone.” Ayaka’s voice shook but she made it to the end without breaking, and even managed to look up defiantly at Lucius Tiberius when she had finished talking.

To his surprise, the Sword Emperor rose. “Ten minutes,” he said and left. The sound of the lock clicking was like thunder in the silent room.

“Saber,” Ayaka said and tried to smile up at him. Her eyes were still bright with unshed tears. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like that. I’m such a coward.”

“No. Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize.” Slowly, stiffly, he managed to sit down next to her. “He’s a monster. When one is face to face with a being like that, it’s only natural to react with fear.”

“Yes, but...he’s a monster we’re going to have to live with, isn’t he?” she said in a small voice.

“I...” _God help me, I am about to pile more sorrow and pain upon you._ “Ayaka. If it were not for one circumstance, I would tell Tiberius to go to hell and take his offer with him. I don’t care how many followers he has. I and Excalibur would withstand all of them. But, now...” _How can I say this to her? That her sister, who tried to sacrifice her for me, may still be alive?_

“Saber.” Ayaka voice had steadied. This time, her eyes met his unflinchingly. “Is this about what happened earlier? At Caster’s workshop?”

He looked away, his fingers running over a crack in his armor. “What do you remember about the Grail War, the one that took place twelve years ago? I know you were only a little girl-” 

“Eight. I was eight.” Her voice turned dull again. “I don’t know anything. I don’t remember anything, Saber, you know that.” Her hands began to tremble. “Father left a letter saying I would have to fight in the Grail War, whenever it happened. Put my life on the line. That’s what happened, wasn’t it, Saber?” Her eyes were anguished, her voice picking up speed. “They fought and died, Father and my sister, they died, Saber. Like I always knew I would. And you...you were there the entire time.”

“I was,” he said quietly. “I was your sister’s Servant.”

“There was someone in the back room, where I wasn’t allowed to go.” Her face had a remote, dreamy expression that frightened him. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Saber.” Her voice was bright and brittle. “Why did Father and Manaka die, if you were my sister’s Servant? If the first-ranked Servant couldn’t save my sister, my perfect, brilliant sister, what chance do I have?”

There was no going back now. “Because I killed her. Because your perfect sister was summoning a darkness that would end the world. Because she killed your father, and tried to kill you.”

Ayaka stared at him. Her eyes were bluer than the summer sky in a face gone dead white. Then she toppled forward in a faint. Saber caught her, cursing himself for being so blunt. _Yet, how can such things be broken gently?_ Her body hung in his arms, warm and limp. His hand pressed against her stomach, bare skin to bare skin. A tremor sped through him. Was she shaking somehow or was it him? Carefully, he laid her on the couch cushions, chafed her wrists. How long before Tiberius returned? 

All he could do was wait.

The minutes dragged by, long terrible minutes. The Sword Emperor did not reappear. Perhaps something has distracted him, Arthur thought, and felt a brief spark of hope that was quickly extinguished by the realization that only something on the level of a Servant attack would divert the Emperor’s attention from his new toys. Fresh blood began to seep from one of the wounds Caster had inflicted on his thigh. He pressed his palm against it, gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Saber.” Ayaka’s voice was the barest whisper and his heart suddenly hammered in his chest. Please don’t hate me, he thought and bent to her. “Sorry about that.”

He could have laughed aloud, he was so relieved. “Please stop apologizing,” he said, keeping his own voice low. “I'm the one who should be begging for forgiveness, not you.”

“I think I always knew, you know,” she murmured. Her voice was still full of pain, but the agonizing sorrow had left. “I c-could remember things, sometimes. Darkness. Girls falling into a pit. Father screaming. I...I thought for a while he was the one who tried to kill me, because, you know. I wasn’t as good.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Manaka telling me I was useless except as food. Things like that.” 

Arthur closed his eyes, sick with grief. The image of a blonde-haired girl in a green dress, lovely as a spring flower, danced behind his eyes. _Fair face hiding the mask of hell. Pile sorrow upon sorrow._ “Ayaka. I apologize but I’m going to have to hurt you more. The creature who attacked us this dawn was... _used to be_ the Caster of the previous war. He betrayed his Master most foully for Manaka and tried to stop me when I descended into the pit where the Grail was kept to stop her. I killed him.”

Ayaka made a noise, low in her throat. “You killed him?”

“Without a doubt, I killed him.” The room had enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, through which one could see other skyscrapers in the distance. He fixed his eyes upon one, the very furthest. “Yet he has returned as something out of nightmares. Moreover, he told me that his orders were to bring me to his mistress, who longs for me still.” _What is it about me that incites this unholy love in others?_ “I can only conclude that somehow, Manaka still lives, and that she still holds sway over Caster. And if him, why not the others? Their souls were meant to return to the Grail, which she corrupted.” 

Sickness rose in him. Noble Archer, haughty Rider, sorrowing Lancer, wild Berserker, lovelorn Assassin. Grieving Caster, who had sought redemption in his blade. They had all made his final victory twelve years ago possible and the thought of them reduced to something like that twitching black thing... “The Sword Emperor said his mages had spied strange figures about town. What if these “strange figures” are the Servants of the previous war? If it is them, I cannot let them suffer under Manaka’s hands. I _must_ find a way to free them. We owe them, quite literally, the world.”

Ayaka sat up slowly, her face stricken. “Six more Servants on top of the ones already in this war,” she said, her voice bleak. “One of them being Lucius Tiberius. My sister.” She laughed, strange and high. “I don’t know which is worse. We really don’t have a choice, do we.” Her eyes sought his, dazed and frightened. “Horrible as he is, we have to go with him.”

His eyes were heavy with sorrow. “Yes, but...Ayaka, please realize this. Don’t let the Sword Emperor’s casually insolent manner fool you. That man...I wouldn’t hesitate to call him a genius of war. He was a master tactician. Brutal, sadistic, efficient. Master of a coalition of a thousand nations, ruler of millions of lives, all under his sole command. He ruled with an iron fist, yet his empire was prosperous, his people peaceful. When he was alive, he was a warrior without peer. Ayaka.” He found the words increasingly difficult to say. “I’ve only been forced to unleash Excalibur three times in all of my existence, both as a king and as a Servant. Once against the Rider of the previous Grail War. Once...against the beast that rose from Manaka’s corrupt Grail at the very end of the last Grail War. And...once against Lucius Tiberius while we both still lived.”

Ayaka’s eyes widened until he could see white all around the sky blue of her irises. “Saber..”

His stomach clenched and he shut his eyes. It was grossly cowardly of him, but he couldn’t look at her face any longer. She had suffered so much already and to have Lucius Tiberius tormenting her on top of everything else was almost more than he could bear. “He is an enemy we can’t afford to have, yet...is the price too high?” he murmured, but he already knew the answer.

_If Manaka and the six Servants of the previous War somehow still live...dealing with them, as well as the Servants still remaining in this one...with Lucius Tiberius as one of those Servants..._

_I am loathe to admit it, but this might be a task beyond even my strength._

_If Manaka is not stopped, she will attempt to bring the world to ruin once more to realize my “dream”. I can take pain. I can take anything if it means that lives will be saved. But to force Ayaka to take on that burden..._

_I know that I cannot prioritize Ayaka over the lives of everyone else in this world. I can’t. I can’t._

_Yet..._

Ayaka’s warm fingers hesitantly touched his hand. A gentle feeling ran through him, like a shiver. Yet it did nothing to alleviate his misery: if anything, it deepened it. “Saber. You know, mages are raised knowing that we have to suffer-sometimes a lot-in order to achieve our goals.” Her fingers curled against his and against his better judgment he let her hold him. “We’re supposed to cut off all weaknesses, like fear, sorrow, pain. Kindness. All human feelings. My father...”

“...expected you to sacrifice your birds every day. I know.” He opened his eyes, found hers studying him with a look of such sweet concern that his heart nearly broke in two. “Warriors, kings, are much the same way. We cut off our humanity in order to better serve our people. In order to keep peace, I’ve done things that return to me in nightmares. I’ve known suffering, slept with it, ate it, lived it every day. Lucius Tiberius can do whatever he likes to me. I am willing and able to bear whatever tortures he may bring. But...but you...” 

_You are the one who gave me back my purpose. You should have never been dragged into this again. I’ve failed you, Ayaka. I failed you..._

Saber found himself stumbling over his words. “You’ve already seen how cruel he is, Ayaka. Yet, as much as I hate to say it, he was a man of his word. If we accept his sadistic offer, I don’t doubt he’ll live up to his end of the bargain. But what suffering must you undergo during the duration?”

She shook her head. “But Saber...the Grail War won’t last forever.” Her glasses slipped down slightly. A new hardness crept into her eyes, her tone. “Lucius Tiberius won’t be here forever. Whatever happens, it will eventually _end._ Like you said, he’s an enemy we can’t afford to have. If my sister...” Ayaka’s voice faltered. “No. If he makes us stronger...then I can take anything from him, too.” Her eyes blazed with a ferocity he had never seen from her before, threat and promise both. “If he wants us, _then let him take us._ ”

“Exactly the attitude I like, lovely,” Rider said from behind them. 

Ayaka jumped and let go of his hand, which suddenly felt colder. “You were listening!”

“Of course I was. This building belongs to me, as does everything in it. Doesn’t it?” the Sword Emperor said, and smirked at them. 

In his hands he carried a slender alabaster jar, so white it shone. He set the jar on a table before the couch, produced three matching cups from seemingly thin air, placed them around the jar. 

“Wine, to celebrate our...joining,” Rider said, catching the mystified looks on both his and Ayaka’s faces. “My best. After all, this is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion for all of us.”

Rider’s voice was casual, but Saber caught the flash in his eyes, the deliberate use of the words he had spoken 1400 years before, during their first and only battle. His blood went cold. The Emperor’s eyes were fixed on him, mocking, challenging.

Lustful. _Hungry..._

Saber met Rider’s stare with a look of flat disdain. _Does he truly think that he can intimidate me by threatening my body?_ Ayaka’s body, yes, but never his. A sigh slipped out. For Ayaka’s sake, he’d do his best to draw off the Emperor’s worst impulses, but if Tiberius thought he’d roll over at a predatory stare...and then he looked at Ayaka.

She was looking at Rider looking at him, her face white and troubled. Of course Lucius Tiberius would use them against each other, he thought bitterly. Ayaka, bless her, damn her, had already thrown herself on a sword in order to save him, and all the Sword Emperor needed to do was threaten him, or threaten her, and they’d both be on their knees, begging for mercy. He would have to do his utmost to make sure that it never came to that.

_Ayaka, I swear to you that I will do my best to make him spare you._

Rider took in his look. His tongue flicked over his lips, so quickly that it was almost unnoticeable, and then he smiled and came to them. One hand dropped onto Ayaka’s shoulder. The other took hold of his chin and lifted his face to meet the taller man’s eyes.

“Ayaka’s mouth is sweet, but I think yours will be sweeter,” Lucius Tiberius murmured. His fingers were hot and calloused, his grip sure. His violet eyes glittered like a wild animal’s. “Let’s find out. Shall we, Pendragon?” The Sword Emperor’s lips came down on his like an invading army, his tongue shoving past his teeth, plunging deeply into his mouth. 

Besides them, Ayaka gasped.

Saber did his best to stay relaxed as Rider ravaged his mouth. His tongue burned, his mouth greedy and possessive, hot as a man in the grip of a fever. The Emperor’s hand moved from Saber’s chin to the back of his head, knotting his fingers tightly into his hair. He leaned against Saber’s body, pressed his full weight against him. Saber could feel the unmistakable presence of Tiberius’s member against his thigh. His unhealed wounds ached from the pressure and he unconsciously shifted to relieve it. Rider moaned at the movement, changed the angles of their mouths, somehow managed to get his tongue even more deeply inside him. Arthur fought back the urge to gag.

_Just physical sensations, physical discomfort. It’ll be over soon. I can take this._

The Sword Emperor pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Saber’s. His eyes were dark with lust and anger. “ _Respond_ , damn you,” he growled. “You gave yourself to me, Pendragon. Act like it. Or do I need to spell out the consequences?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Saber said quietly. Everything about him ached. “I apologize. I’ve...never been with a man before and I was never very good at this sort of thing, even with women.”

“Hmmm.” Rider’s face relaxed slightly. “I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me. You’re one of history’s most notorious cuckolds, after all.” Saber tried not to wince but Rider laughed anyway. His hand began to smooth Saber’s hair, stroking it, running it through his fingers. Saber tensed and then leaned into the movement, trying to cooperate. “My beautiful Arthur,” Rider whispered and leaned down again. This time his lips were soft, almost tender. Rider’s tongue licked gently at his lower lip, coaxing, and Saber opened his mouth.

The Sword Emperor’s tongue stroked his, more of a dance than a possession, and Saber did his clumsy best to follow him. Tiberius’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulled his hips against his. He moaned and left Saber’s mouth, began kissing along his jaw, his throat. Kisses like fire, like burning coals against his skin. Lucius Tiberius’s tongue found the blood on his cheek, lapped it up. Cleaned him. His mouth found Saber’s ear, nibbled the lobe, traced the rim with his tongue. Saber bit back a moan. Something inside him was stirring. An ember of a long forgotten sensation...

_Just physical reactions. Natural. Nothing more..._

Rider’s hand snaked under his armor, found a tear in his tunic. Those hot fingers touched his side, skimmed lightly over one of the wounds Caster had inflicted. One of Rider’s knees pushed between his thighs, ground against him. The ember flared, its heat nearly unbearable. Arthur clenched his teeth.

Tiberius laughed quietly. _“Pendragon, have you ever just let yourself go?”_ he said in Latin. _“Ever indulged? No, I don’t think you have.”_ His hand was somewhere around Saber’s waist now. _“That’s fine. If you can’t, or won’t, let me do that for you. I’ll strip you down to your soul, give you the joy you’ve never allowed yourself to have.”_ His lips brushed Saber’s, gentle as spring rain. _“Do you understand what I’m offering? Peace. Freedom. You won’t have to worry about a thing, my love. I’ll do all the work, take all the blame. All you have to do is give in.”_ Rider’s fingers traced the line of hair on his belly, moved further south. Found flesh. His touch was delicate and sure, and this time Saber couldn’t control his gasp.

A noise to the side made them both turn their heads. Ayaka was standing a few feet away, eyes down. Her face was beet red, her hands clenched in front of her as if she was praying. The expression on her face mixed anger, fear and something else Saber couldn’t put a name to.

Lucius Tiberius was the first to recover. He straightened up, taking his hands off Saber’s body and grinned. “Come here, Ayaka.”

Saber let out a tiny sigh of relief that was almost immediately buried in a flood of anxiety. _No! Focus on me, not Ayaka!_

Ayaka stepped forward, her eyes still on the floor, her hands still clenched. Tiberius took hold of her arm, brought her right next to them. “Worried we’ll neglect you, lovely? Don’t be. Look at me.” He raised her chin. Ayaka reluctantly lifted her eyes. They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Tiberius’s face was solemn, while Ayaka looked on the verge of tears. His thumb stroked her cheek, as if he was thinking. Then he bent down and brought his mouth to hers, pulling her body against Saber’s arm.

The Sword Emperor made his kisses last and this was no exception. Ayaka made a small sound that might have been a cut-off moan. Was Rider hurting her? Saber could feel the heat from her skin, her soft breasts pressing against his body. All the aches and pains he had felt earlier suddenly rushed back upon him. _This is not right. But what can I do?_ Caught as he was between them, there was no good way to move. 

Rider finally released her and stepped back. Ayaka was breathing heavily, her lips rose-red, her face flushed. Saber could see a tear on her cheek. Without thinking, he raised his hand and wiped it off. Her skin was hot and smooth under his fingers.

Ayaka looked at him, startled. “Saber...”

“I’m sorry,” he said. His fingertips tingled and he was suddenly conscious of a great weariness. “I shouldn’t have touched you without asking, Master.”

“No, it’s not that,” Ayaka said. Her words came out in a rush. “I meant...it’s just that, Saber..”

“Enough,” Lucius Tiberius broke in. “Save it for later. Let’s have our wine and then we can all relax for a while.”

“Relax?” Saber said. Anger stirred in him and he wasn’t quite sure why. “There’s no time for that. There are Servants past and present hunting for us right now and _Manaka_...have you any idea of the devastation she was responsible for last time? And you’re telling me to _leave her be_?”

“And is running out after her in your condition going to do a damn thing, other than get you killed, my heart?” the Sword Emperor said sardonically. “You need healing, and rest. Ayaka needs food-you’re hungry, aren’t you lovely?-and rest.” Ayaka stared at Tiberius as if he’d suddenly grown an extra head. “I told you, I’ll take care of everything. Even as we speak, my mages are scouting, my giants patrolling. My generals have been chewing my head off, demanding to know when they get to fight. If they decide to bring the battle to us, we’ll be ready for them.” He grinned. “Until then, why worry? We’ll hunt when we’re fresh and enjoy ourselves,” his voice dropped slightly, “in the meantime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well shit, this was supposed to just be filthy sex but now it's growing a plot.


	5. Chapter 5

The wine was heavy, and sweet. Lucius Tiberius let it glide over his tongue, the taste of it the same wonderful shock now as it had been 1400 years ago. _Ah, so many missed experiences. I really should get myself summoned to Grail Wars more often._

Pendragon and Ayaka sat to either side of him, a triangle with him as the apex. Ayaka sipped her wine timidly, until her tongue registered the sweetness. The surprise that crossed her face was almost comical. She swallowed more boldly after that and Rider inwardly smiled. _Good girl._

Arthur drank his slowly, his face morose. His forehead still bled sluggishly from the blow the Emperor had used to knock him out, though he scarcely seemed aware of it. Lucius Tiberius licked his thumb, cupped Pendragon’s chin in his hand and wiped away the blood. Ayaka stiffened, but said nothing. Pendragon gave him the flat stare he’d obviously perfected over years of repressing his real emotions. Rider smiled sweetly at the two of them, slipped his bloody thumb into his mouth, sucked it clean. Pendragon’s blood tingled deliciously on his tongue, nearly as sweet as the wine.

Pendragon looked away. 

Undeterred, Rider slid his booted foot against Pendragon’s ankle, stroked up to his calf. Found the sensitive spot behind his knee, massaged it. Arthur’s entire body went rigid, then relaxed. Remembering that he needed to play nicely now didn’t stop him from shooting the Emperor a look so sharp it could have sliced him in two. Lucius Tiberius laughed and ruffled Pendragon’s hair, winning himself another glare. “You’re such a bitch, love,” he murmured happily and drank some more. 

Gods, tonight was going to be such _fun._

Ayaka had so far been silent, her body shaking almost imperceptibly. He glanced at her, then at the clock in the room. _Might as well start._ “Are you cold, Ayaka? Here.” To Pendragon and Ayaka’s obvious shock, he removed his coat and tucked it around her shoulders. Her small frame was completely swallowed by the fabric, face almost hidden by the high points of the collar. Rider hid a smile as she unconsciously brought a hand up to adjust the material, treating it almost like a blanket. He’d told his servants to keep the thermostat just low enough to make a human shiver, something that a Heroic Spirit wouldn’t be able to register. Ayaka’s face eased slightly as the warmth from the coat settled into her. 

_That’s one._

The door opened and Antonius, Ermingard and Njeri, three of his best mages, stepped inside. Exactly as ordered. Ayaka and Pendragon stared at them, their bodies tense as Njeri stepped forward, made a deep obeisance to him, then a slighter one to Pendragon. “If it pleases you, Your Highness,” she said, her voice low and musical, “we would have you come with us.”

Pendragon looked at her. “It does not, at this moment, please me,” he said, his voice rough, then turned back to Rider. “Sword Emperor.” His voice was simmering with barely controlled anger. “Kindly explain.”

Lucius Tiberius shrugged nonchalantly, took a drink before answering. Arthur might be the eternal owner of his heart but honestly, the man was so much fun to tease. “I told you earlier, you need healing. That’s,” he said with an easy wave of his hand, “what they’re here for. Aren’t you sick of bleeding all over the place?”

Pendragon made no move to go with them. His eyes, fixed on Lucius Tiberius, had the cold splendor of emeralds. “Healing me. In that case, I take it your mages will also remove the seal they placed on my healing abilities,” he said, voice taut. Rider drank in the sight of him, joy singing in his blood. So fierce, so angry. So _his._ Later on he’d demonstrate to the Red Dragon of Britain just how thoroughly the Emperor loved and owned him, but for now-

“Sure, why not? I trust you. And don’t worry about us. Ayaka and I are perfectly capable of entertaining ourselves while you’re gone,” he said, smiling, and had the satisfaction of seeing Pendragon’s lips tighten. Saber took one last look at Ayaka. She stared back at him, mute and tense, then lifted her chin slightly and nodded to him. Anxiety radiated off him but Pendragon stepped away finally and allowed the mages to escort him out the door. As it closed, Ayaka let out a deep, shuddering breath.

_That’s two._

Ayaka was doing her best to hide her fear but under the folds of his coat she was clasping and unclasping her hands. “Now that Pendragon’s being taken care of,” he said casually and watched her start, “let’s get you something to eat. Any preferences? Anything in particular you’d like? I can’t say my people have much experience with Japanese food, but they’ll do a good job regardless.”

“N-No, not Japanese is fine. I’m used to Western food,” she murmured. Lucius Tiberius noted with amusement that one small hand reached up and grasped the lapel of his coat, pulling it close to her throat. _Still cold, lovely? I have a remedy for that._ He snapped his fingers and one of his house servants appeared from the air. Ayaka smothered a gasp. “Food for the lady. Nothing too heavy.” The man bowed and vanished as quickly as he had come.

The food arrived almost immediately, olive chicken with rosemary and a selection of fresh fruit that gleamed like jewels. He poured more wine for Ayaka and himself, sipped his own, while Ayaka stared at the food as if she’d never seen any before. Patiently, he carved a section off the chicken and placed it before her, spooning the sauce and olives thickly over the meat. After another moment of hesitation, she took the hint and began to eat. 

Rider watched her hands, her mouth, the way her throat moved as she swallowed. Her hands were steady enough, but the fear and fatigue in her eyes...“Good? If not, they’ll bring something else.”

“N-No, this is fine.”

Ayaka ate, slowly and mechanically, but at least she was eating. He helped himself to a piece of chicken, savoring the flavor. Excellent as always. Rider pulled a grape from the bunch, ate it, took another, glanced at Ayaka’s plate. Most of the chicken was gone. He rolled the grape between his fingers, considering.

“Do you want any fruit?”

Ayaka’s eyes were not on him but on some invisible point on the table. More fool her. “All right,” she murmured.

He grinned, and bit the grape he was holding in two. “Here,” he said, placing the bitten half against her lips. 

That roused her. She jumped, stared at the grape, shot him a quick fearful look. He smiled gently at her and used his thumb to push the grape into her mouth. “Eat.” His fingers lingered on her lips, thumb stroking her smooth skin. Ayaka chewed, slowly and carefully, swallowed hard. Her eyes were wide and blue as the sky. Lucius Tiberius watched them as he leaned forward and took her mouth with his.

Ayaka trembled as he leisurely explored her mouth, his tongue gently playing with hers. Just like Pendragon she had absolutely no idea how to respond, no clue how to please him. He guided her hand to the back of his neck, threaded her fingers into the short hair at his nape. “Like this, lovely,” he whispered between kisses. “Hold on like you mean it.” Her fingers obediently tightened. There was the barest hint of nails digging into his skin, the slightest tease of the small beast lurking somewhere inside her. He shuddered with pleasure, nipped tenderly at her lower lip in reward. Her shivering intensified. Rider left her mouth, licked at her ear. Traced the curves inside with his tongue, same as he’d done earlier to Pendragon. Ayaka whimpered as he sucked her earlobe, her hands clutching at his hair. Her whimpers were going straight to his cock and an image danced through his mind, of those small fingers tugging at his hair as he sucked and lapped at her cunt. Fucking her with his fingers and tongue. The thought made him moan into her ear. Would she unbend enough to cry out his name? 

_My lovely Ayaka. Gods, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of you._

As wonderfully pleasurable as this was, he had other plans. _Sorry, lovely, but you’ll have to wait a little longer for me._ One last kiss. Another. Hell, why not a third? He pulled away finally, achingly hard, feverish and nowhere near sated, but obligation called. To steady himself he took a long drink of wine as Ayaka looked on. Her face was surprised, even slightly hopeful. He leered at her to cure that. “Oh, lovely, the real fun starts later,” he said softly and grinned as her eyes dropped. Rider served her some more chicken, gestured to her plate. “Finish your chicken, sweet, take more wine. Pendragon’s going to be a while, so we’ll just relax until then.”

She went red at the suggestion that their “fun” would start once Pendragon returned, exactly as he intended. Quietly, she resumed eating while he filled her cup again. He’d given strict instructions to the servants that no drink was to be provided for her other than the wine and the kitchen, ever alert to his orders, had gone heavy on the olives. Ayaka drank deeply, lulled by the wine’s sweetness. The Sword Emperor watched her with silent amusement. Mentally, he started a countdown.

Ayaka’s color rose with each swallow she took, until her pale skin was flushed a brilliant pink. Her eyes were starting to grow heavy, her long black lashes drooping. Having eaten all the chicken, she sat silently, her small hands clenched in her lap. Her head swayed forward.

_That’s three._

“Tired, Ayaka?” he asked, keeping his voice low and carefully blank. “If you are, you can lean on me. I don’t mind.”

Her head snapped up. “N-No, I’m fine,” she said. Her voice was ever so slightly slurred. “It’s nothing really. I’m fine.” The words trailed off into a mumble and he almost burst out laughing.

For the next several minutes he watched as Ayaka slumped, jerked awake, slumped again. Carefully he reached over and slid his arm around her shoulders, brought her close to him. This caused a muttered protest that he cheerfully ignored as he guided her head against his shoulder. She squirmed but he stopped that by kissing her forehead. “Shh. It’s all right, Ayaka. Sleep if you need to. You’re only human, after all.” Rider kissed her cheek, rested his forehead against hers and Ayaka, undone by stress, the wine, the food and the heat of his body, went out like a blown candle.

He stroked her hair absently as he waited to make sure she was completely asleep. Ayaka’s hair was soft in a different way than Pendragon’s, but no less pleasing. Thick and heavy, satin to Pendragon’s silk. Her breasts pressed against his side, so warm and full. _Fuck._ His fingers twitched with the urge to cup them, stroke them, but it wasn’t worth the risk of waking her. _I’ll have her soon enough. Plus, it’ll be a lot more fun once she’s awake enough to properly appreciate it._

Ayaka’s breathing was deep and even. He shrugged his shoulder slightly, just enough to make her head move. She didn’t stir. Rider raised his head. “Aniketos.”

The head of his mages appeared in an eyeblink. “Your orders, Majesty.”

Gently and carefully, Lucius Tiberius eased Ayaka down into a lying position on the couch, wrapping his coat firmly around her body. Unconsciously she curled up, knees to chest, clutching the heavy fabric. He played with a strand of her hair, then looked up. “I want you to put Lady Ayaka out for a few hours, deep enough that nothing disturbs her. She needs sleep.”

Aniketos nodded respectfully and stretched out his hands as the Emperor rose. While he waited for the mage to finish, he strolled around the room, drank off the last of the wine. The air thickened in the way that always said magic, crested like a wave, then began to smooth out as Aniketos’s voice died away. The mage stood, shaking the tension out of his arms and legs. He bowed as his Emperor rejoined him, his face creased with a job-well-done smile. “Lady Ayaka will sleep for four or five hours, maybe more, then wake naturally on her own. Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?”

Rider slid Ayaka’s glasses off. “Check these for me, will you? I don’t sense any magic on them, but unusual things happen when they’re not on my lady’s nose.”

“Certainly.” Aniketos ran a thoughtful finger over the black frames, his eyes narrowing. “Hmm. A flash of something, very subtle? Most intriguing. I will examine these as ordered. Does Your Majesty require anything else?”

“Pendragon.”

Aniketos inclined his head. “Healed as you ordered. His Highness now sleeps in the second bedroom.”

“Excellent. You’re dismissed.”

The mage bowed and vanished. Ayaka lay utterly still except for her breathing, her soft lips slightly parted. Rider bent and kissed those sweet lips lightly. Then he turned and looked thoughtfully at the door. Pendragon waited for him beyond. He began to grin.

_Rest peacefully a little longer, my love._

His smile widened.

_Just a little._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time, the smut train finally leaves the station.


	6. Chapter 6

Roughly an hour had passed before Lucius Tiberius decided he’d given Arthur long enough. “Junius Brutus.”

The head of his generals burst into the room like a small thunderclap. “Divine One!” He knelt and slammed a massive fist into the floor, causing a minor earthquake. Lucius Tiberius glanced at Ayaka, but she slept on, undisturbed. _Never doubt Aniketos’s handiwork._ “Your unworthy servant answers. As always, I shall fulfill your desires to the utmost.”

Rider hid a grin. Junius Brutus had been one of the first men to swear allegiance to him, so long ago. He’d never say that the man’s devotion didn’t become him, but the sheer enthusiasm the general brought to every interaction was amusing as all hell. “General. I’m going to be occupied elsewhere for a time on a matter of importance.” Brutus’s bulging, pale blue gaze was the epitome of fealty. “While I’m gone, I want you to stand guard over Lady Ayaka. See that nothing disturbs her. Should we be attacked, shield her until either I or Pendragon can come to your side.” The Sword Emperor paused. It was laughable to think that anything, Servant or no, had the power to overwhelm both him and Pendragon. However, he’d noticed a faint but definite tinge of anxiety running through Njeri’s report on those odd beings. Former Servants, if Pendragon was correct. And if _she_ was anxious...

 _And Pendragon was worried about Ayaka’s sister as well. Hmmm._ “It’s unthinkable, but if the enemy attacks in such overwhelming strength that neither I nor Pendragon can reach you, I want you to take the lady and head for the other base. Should anything happen to her, Pendragon might disappear before we can fix him to a new anchor. Not to mention that I’ve become quite taken with her myself.” Ayaka couldn’t see him but he leered at her anyway. “Her safety is your first priority.”

Junius Brutus looked like he was going to topple over in shock. “Enemies greater than either you or the Lord Pendragon? Impossible!”

Rider smiled reassuringly at him. “It is, but I didn’t rule most of the known world by leaving myself open to contingencies.” _Unless they had golden hair, green eyes and answered to the name of “Arthur Pendragon.” Oh well._

“Divine One, I shall guard thy Lady to my utmost.” Brutus clapped a hand over his heart. His eyes carried the same ferocious intensity they had 1400 years ago, when the general had knelt and pledged himself wholly to Lucius Tiberius, not caring that his new sovereign had been all of thirteen. _And a skinny thirteen at that._ “Dare I ask if the Divine One plans to gladden our hearts by taking a new consort?”

The Emperor rose and thumped Junius Brutus on the shoulder with a grin. “Double your felicitations, most loyal of generals, because if all goes well, I’m about to take two.”

 

Pendragon was still sleeping when he entered the room, a light coverlet pulled over his body. His sleeves had been rolled up, baring pale, scarred forearms, thick wrists, long hands. Lucius Tiberius closed and locked the door silently, then sat down in the chair besides the bed. His mages had, as always, done their work well. Healed Pendragon, slid him under a sleeping spell as part of the healing. And soon it would be wearing off...

Lust and anticipation built in him and he licked his lips happily.

Arthur’s face was tense even in sleep. His mouth was tightly closed. _Hah, well, he’s right to be concerned_ , the Sword Emperor thought and grinned. Ayaka had settled down beautifully, but Pendragon was still clinging desperately to his reserve. Still smiling, he reached over and very gently stroked his cheek. Pendragon’s frown deepened. His mouth twitched, as if about to speak. Rider withdrew and waited for Pendragon to settle. The king’s breathing went ragged, then evened out, deepened again. Lucius Tiberius brushed a finger over the pale skin of his right arm. “So fair,” he murmured. “Smooth and beautiful...heh, smooth where you’re not covered with scars.” A highly foreign feeling of irritation rose within him. _I should have been the one to scar Pendragon and no one else._

Carefully, he lifted his arm, pressed his lips to the inside of Arthur’s wrist. _Each scar a vow of my love._ His tongue licked at the broad vein at his wrist, followed it up Arthur’s arm. Found the vulnerable skin in the crease of his elbow. Rider sucked that tender skin gently, left a small red mark. The Emperor shuddered and pressed his face into Arthur’s arm. He wanted to bury his face in Arthur’s neck. Wrap his arms around him. Breathe in the scent of him, sweat and skin. Feel Pendragon’s silky hair against his forehead. Feel Pendragon breathe against him, feel the frantic beat of his blood against his lips, hold him tightly and-

_Gods, I want to fuck you so badly. My dragon. My Arthur. I crave you. I adore you. I love you. Owner of my heart, tonight I’ll be inside you and that’s where I’ll stay. Forever. You’ll never be free of me._

The skin under his lips flexed, tightened. “Sword Emperor.” Pendragon’s voice was remarkably dry considering the circumstances. “Why am I not surprised?”

His reverie broken, Lucius Tiberius raised his head and smiled down at Arthur. “You know,” he murmured, brushing his fingers gently over Pendragon’s face, “I could sit here and do nothing more than look at you until the world ends, and I’d be satisfied.”

Pendragon didn’t quite roll his eyes, but it was close. “Please, dispense with the compliments.” He glanced down at the mark in the crease of his elbow. His lips tightened. “Where’s Ayaka?”

“Sleeping peacefully in the other room. Don’t worry, I have one of my best men watching over her.” Rider raised Pendragon’s hand to his lips, kissed it softly. “She’s completely safe.”

“Safe,” Pendragon murmured, “being a relative term.”

Rider grinned. If Pendragon was determined to be a prickly bitch, so be it. He’d love him no matter what, but it was so _typical_ of him. “You’d rather she was out there with those twisted things running around, then?” Ever so gently he turned Pendragon’s hand over, then sank his teeth into the fleshy part of his palm. It wasn’t a hard bite at all, but Pendragon hissed. “With only you to shield her against twelve Servants and her murderous sister? My love, did you forget that both of you almost died this morning?”

Pendragon made a noise close to a growl. He started to pull his hand away. Then realization broke in on him and he stopped, settling for a full-fledged glare instead. _We don’t like being told we’re not strong enough, do we. I can relate._

“No matter what, I will protect Ayaka and the world until the last atom of my body is gone,” Arthur said between his teeth. “Be they Servant or monster. As Ayaka said, you are _temporary._ Your twisted...deal...is just another tool to that end. Like a sword, or a spear. Keep that in mind, Sword Emperor. You can do whatever you like with my body, but you’ll never touch the core of me.”

“Just a temporary tool, hmm? I’m devastated,” Lucius Tiberius murmured. He stroked Pendragon’s palm. “Protecting what you hold dear, no matter the cost to yourself. That’s Arthur Pendragon. So what stopped you from accepting my offer in order to save your poor besieged Britain? Oh, wait. I remember. I’m evil.” He grinned. The look on Arthur’s face was quickly turning murderous. “Pendragon, did it ever occur to you that if you’d accepted my offer, added my strength to yours, your Britain might have been saved?

Pendragon’s eyebrows went up. “Saved, to what end?” he said in a tight voice. _Hah, this has occurred to you, hasn’t it?_ “Saved, so it could be crushed under Roman depravity, Roman indifference? You mistake me, Sword Emperor. I give of myself, willingly. However, your price would have been borne not by me alone, but by the entirety of Britain. That is what made any deal unthinkable.”

“Better then, for Britain to be crushed under wave after wave of brutal Saxon invaders? Instead of subsumed under Roman protection? Seems to me that the entire kingdom paid the price for your high morals. How, in the end, was there any real difference?” Rider said, exasperated. “Arthur. I would have taken you and your Britain but if you had behaved yourself, I would have-eventually-returned Britain to your rule. A gift to you. You could have resumed your rule, with little change, but your high-handed morality, your intrinsic _goodness_ , your blessed _weakness_ damned you all. Your _goodness_ never kept Britain peaceful, while my empire flourished under my _evil_. Don’t you think that means something?”

Pendragon sat up, his eyes blazing with emerald fire. This time, he pulled his hand away. “If, as I was told, Britain was fated to fall, your strength, your _evil_ , would have availed me nothing, Emperor. Romans. Saxons. Forgive me, but from my experiences, I saw very little difference between the two. If ruin be certain, then let me and my people go down with our heads held high, knowing that we have not descended into sin in exchange for promises fated to be forever unfulfilled.” His eyes were harder than death. “How telling it is that you equate goodness with weakness, Sword Emperor. Hardly surprising from a man who put millions to the sword for his own twisted desires.”

Now he was really starting to get annoyed. “Pendragon, do you think I held a coalition of a hundred countries together with my sword alone? No. Many of my people were with me because they wanted to be. My power was admired and feared throughout the world. Thousands came willingly. Some of them _begged._ The weak live and die by the whim of the strong, Pendragon. They either give themselves to the strong for protection, or else they end up _crushed_. My people understood the law of the world. Understood what I was offering and judged my price worthy.” 

Rider leaned forward until he and Pendragon were nose to nose, close enough to feel the king’s breath on his lips. Arthur’s eyes narrowed, but he held his ground. “I was the weaker in our battle and fell. Do you really think I wanted to die at the age of twenty-five? Leave my Rome in lesser hands? _Of course fucking not,_ but even the gods are not exempt from the law. Weakness _kills_ Pendragon. Ask me how I know! Shall I give you a more personal example? Even though you knew she craved your ruin, you chose to let your bitch sister and her misbegotten bastard live. Out of _goodness_. And what did that get you in the end?”

If Excalibur had been in Pendragon’s hands, he would have been a charred corpse by now, exactly as he'd fallen 1400 years ago. The king’s breathing was growing ragged, his fists clenched in the blankets. Rider threw him an annoyed look and swept on regardless. 

“You chose weakness, and were devoured accordingly. If you’re weak, everything will be taken from you. Therefore, you grab power by any means necessary in order to keep what’s yours. Goodness doesn’t serve power, Pendragon. That’s why you discard it. Or you leave yourself open to ruin. I learned this.” He leaned back again, folded his arms. His heart was beating hard. Anger, hot and sharp, was filling his body. An unusual and uncomfortable sensation. “Why didn’t you?”

Pendragon had an odd look on his face, one that he couldn’t put a name to. The angry fire had faded from his eyes, which now were as deep a green as the sea after a storm. Those eyes searched his as if hunting for something Pendragon wasn’t quite sure existed. “You speak as though from personal experience, Sword Emperor,” he said quietly, after a pause. 

Lucius Tiberius smiled but this time there was no humor in it. “Of course I do. Want to hear a story? Listen, Pendragon. I had four mothers. My first died giving birth to me. Fitting enough. You can’t bring something divine into this world without a sacrifice.” Pendragon shot him a dark green glare. “Save your admonitions for the end, love. My father married my second mother when I was just about two. Her name was Caecilia Metella. Beautiful and the timidest thing in the world. She loved me, took care of me just as if I was her own. The best and sweetest of women. I loved her. She was my real mother.” He took a breath. “When I was nine, my father got tired of her. There was another woman, a bitch with money. My father should have divorced Caecilia, but the Metellus family was powerful. The man was a _god._ He owned the _world_. The Metelli should have been as nothing to him. He chose poison instead.”

Pendragon stiffened. “You mean-” 

“Exactly. That man, born divine, sank into fear like a common mortal and decided to murder his devoted wife under the guise of illness instead of simply putting her aside.” His chest felt tight. “Gods, if he wasn’t going to divorce her, he could have at least done Caecilia Metella the courtesy of allowing her to commit suicide. All he would have had to do was point at a cliff and she’d have gone running. It would have been better for all of us in the end.”

Arthur hissed under his breath. His eyes had lost their softness in disgust. “Sword Emperor, I’ve never expected much from you, but that you can say something so _warped_ -”

He grabbed the other man’s chin, hard enough that he felt the king’s jaw clench in pain. “Pendragon, her death was long, slow and hideous. It took her almost a month to die. A _month_. By the end, she was a shriveled mummy, not even able to swallow water. Her! She, who’d been the most beautiful woman in the world! And I was just a helpless brat. Weak. I could do _nothing_ , except sneak into her rooms and watch her as she died. She couldn’t even recognize me by the end.” Fourteen centuries later and still, the old rage, the old pain. The old sorrow, prickling deep inside him. He let Pendragon’s chin go. Closed his eyes. “That day should taught me the true meaning of strength, but I was too stupid to really get it at the time. I had to be taught again.”

Pendragon shifted slightly besides him. Was he moving closer? “Tell me,” he said quietly and he could feel the pity in the other man’s voice.

Rider laughed and it hurt. “Sure. Here’s the other example. I had a servant growing up. His name was Marcus. He was a little older than me. Devoted to me, as was proper, but I think he really liked me. Maybe you could have called us friends.” Marcus’s face, creased in his familiar expression of perma-worry, swam in the darkness behind his closed lids. _Sorry, Marcus. You were right after all._ “I wasn’t allowed out of the palace when I was young. Even though the world belonged to me, gods shouldn’t mix with the lesser mortals. Of course, that didn’t stop me. I wanted to see everything, to know everything. All the buildings, all the animals, all the people. All the lives that were someday going to be in the palm of my hand. So, we used to sneak out a lot.” He could still feel the coarse brown tunic he used to put on as a disguise, disgustingly rough against his skin. 

“Marcus didn’t like it, but he had to listen to me. And we got away with it for years. Until I was eleven. My father somehow got wind of what we were doing and went out to get us with a full contingent of the Imperial Guards. They caught us in front of the Temple of Caesar. Ironic.” Again, he laughed. “He didn’t care that it was all my idea from the start. He didn’t care that Marcus had no choice but to obey me. As punishment, he beat the living shit out of me, so bad I was still walking with a limp a year later. Marcus he had exiled to the mines.” 

He opened his eyes, patted Pendragon’s thigh. “I couldn’t stop my father. I screamed and cried and even _begged_ but it did nothing. Once again, all I could do was _nothing_. Naturally, by the time I found out where he’d been sent and was able to do something about it, he’d died. Sixteen. Ruined by years of torturous, back-breaking work. See what I mean about power?”

The horror and sympathy in Pendragon’s eyes were almost worth dredging those memories up again. Almost. “Your father sentenced a child to the mines? Simply for leaving the palace?”

Rider settled himself more comfortably in the chair. He continued stroking Pendragon’s leg, touching him so lightly the other man seemed not to notice it. _I’ll pretend I didn’t notice you completely evading my point, love._ “Of course. I’d humiliated him, you see. He didn’t care that Marcus, as the weaker party, was obligated to obey me. Marcus was fulfilling his proper role, but my father, as I mentioned, held his divinity lightly. Much too lightly. Almost as if he didn’t believe in it himself.”

“Yes. Your father.” Pendragon’s voice was tight. The sympathy in his face was ebbing away. “Rumor had it that you murdered him.”

_Ah, there it is._

Lucius Tiberius smiled, slow and patient. “And you’re thinking that I justified it to myself because of what I’ve just told you. Aren’t you, love? No, Arthur.” He kissed Pendragon’s cheek lightly, felt muscles tighten. “Despite all his lapses, I still had too much respect for him, too much awe. Flawed as he was, he was still a god. No. I killed him because he tried to kill me first.”

Pendragon said nothing. He stared into space, his mouth working. “You’re telling the truth,” he said finally. His voice was hoarse, as if from long disuse. “I don’t want to believe you, but you’re telling the truth.”

Rider reached over, touched his lips gently. “My mages told me that because of your dragon blood, you had an almost supernatural ability to tell if someone’s lying.” He left Pendragon’s mouth, stroked that silky golden hair, smoothing it away from Pendragon’s eyes. “Thanks for verifying it.” 

Arthur’s face was paler than usual, his expression twisted between pity and anguish. “I was thirteen when I killed him. I’d already started building up-hah, I guess you could call it my first coalition. Ironically, it happened partly because he’d practically imprisoned me in my rooms after he’d caught me. I started talking to my guards. Learning about them. I’ve always liked knowledge. My father didn’t treat his people well. Some of them started to shift their allegiance. His fourth wife-wonderful woman, by the way, Julia Drusilla-tolerated him but loved me. Once I had healed and was released from my confinement, I started training with my former guards. Started beating them easily. My father became scared. Weakness, again. It takes everything from you.” 

The Emperor traced the arch of Pendragon’s eyebrow with a finger, kissed the end. “At some point, he decided I was looking to take over the throne. Nothing could have been further from the truth but that didn’t matter. One night, he took the guards still loyal to him and ambushed me in my rooms.”

“And you killed him. Thirteen years old and forced to kill your father.” Arthur’s voice was barely audible.

Lucius Tiberius shrugged, very slightly, and kissed him, more to get that look off Pendragon’s face than out of lust. Still, the kiss was sweet. “Yes, I killed him. The guards too. It was both harder and easier than I’d thought it would be. After that I took the throne, came into my full divinity. That first year was a little rough, but what can mortals do against a god?” He grinned. “They fell like wheat, burnt sacrifices to my greatness. Then, at the New Year, Julia Drusilla presented me with Florent, and that-” he stroked Pendragon’s cheek, placed his thumb against the tender skin of his lower lip “-was that.”

The flat look was back in Pendragon’s eyes. _Too much sympathy for the devil, my love?_ He was silent for a time, then said: “I understand you now, Sword Emperor.” He shook his head but that didn’t take Lucius Tiberius’s fingers off his face. “No wonder you became as you are. Fathers attempting to kill sons. Sons forced to kill their fathers. Delusions of grandeur. Love discarded for power. Children forced to grow old before their time.” His eyes, his voice, were full of sorrow. “Children twisted into monsters by a loveless system. I pity you, Lucius Tiberius. You never had a chance.”

The Sword Emperor looked at Pendragon. Pity was a second cousin to love and certainly better than hatred, disgust or disdain. All the same, there was something a little...aggravating about it. “Save the pity for someone more deserving, my heart. I appreciate it, but...” His thumb stroked Pendragon’s lower lip, pressed in slightly. Arthur’s mouth was so hot and wet against his skin. “I’d much rather have your love instead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. uh. i may have slightly lied when i said the smut was going to be in this chapter. i ended up splitting the chapter in two because rider and arthur would.not.stop.talking. it just got so huge. 
> 
> but fear not, the smut is right next door.
> 
> lucius tiberius' backstory is, of course, all my invention. add him to fgo already so we can get the real story, delightworks!


	7. Chapter 7

“Then make your peace with disappointment, Sword Emperor,” Pendragon said quietly. His body had gone tense again. “I stand by what I said earlier. My body may be yours for the time being, but my heart remains my own.”

Rider leaned forward, pressed his cheek against Pendragon’s. Felt the rasp of the other man’s stubble against his skin. “Love, don’t be ridiculous,” he said lightly, teasing. Slowly, he shifted himself onto the bed, wrapped his arms around Pendragon’s stiff body. Coaxing him with warmth just as he had with Ayaka earlier. “We both know,” he whispered into Pendragon’s ear, “that you’ve already given away your heart.”

“W-What?”

Funny how Pendragon had suddenly developed a stutter. Rider kissed the tender spot just behind Arthur’s ear, teased his lobe with his tongue. “I’m talking about Ayaka, my love,” he said, placing another kiss just under his jaw. “Or didn’t you realize?”

The Emperor felt Pendragon’s jaw clench under his lips. Patiently, he kissed a slow trail up his jaw to his ear, licked a wet stripe across his cheek. “Does she know?” he whispered as his hands stroked Arthur’s throat, started unbuttoning the high collar of his tunic. The fabric fell away, baring beautifully pale skin just begging for Lucius Tiberius to mark it. Smiling, he placed his thumb against the pulse in the hollow of Arthur’s throat. Felt it jump. “Did you? From the way you reacted, I’d say the answer is no.” He placed a kiss right against that pulse and it thumped even more strongly. Rider circled his tongue in the hollow, dragged it up the smooth column of Pendragon’s throat. Arthur’s skin was so tender that Lucius Tiberius’s tongue left a faint red mark on that white skin. The Sword Emperor looked at that mark, felt his cock twitch impatiently.

“Is that,” Pendragon finally said, in a voice so low he had to strain to hear it, “why you were tormenting Ayaka?” His eyes seemed slightly unfocused. Rider took the opportunity to slide one arm around Arthur’s waist.

“Not at all. I like Ayaka,” Lucius Tiberius said sincerely. Gently, he nibbled the curve of Pendragon’s throat. “My heart belongs to you, but I could see myself giving her a little corner of it. She’s interesting. Sweet. Beautiful. She tries hard and she’s hiding a magnificent set of tits under those dowdy clothes of hers.” He eased Arthur’s tunic open, slipped his hand inside. “She’ll make a lovely bride. If you want to have her first, I won’t mind.”

_“What?”_

“Be Ayaka’s first. Take her virginity. Deflower her,” the Emperor said, speaking slowly and distinctly. “I thought I made it clear that this is a three-way relationship, love. Did you think I was going to fuck the two of you in separate rooms?”

Arthur made a strangled noise.

“You don’t have to decide now,” the Emperor soothed. “There’s still plenty of time before evening. Though...hah...personally, I’m having a real hard time waiting for tonight.” His thumb circled Pendragon’s nipple as he sucked hard at his throat, drawing that soft skin between his teeth. He bit down and Arthur gasped, his back arching. “Aren’t you?”

“It’s not my decision to make. It’s Ayaka’s,” Pendragon said hoarsely. His gaze was riveted to the ceiling. “Evening. You speak of weddings and evening. Then what’s this?”

Rider smirked at him. “Fun,” he said as he admired the red mark he’d left on Arthur’s throat. _I’ll spot you like a leopard, love._ “Things were getting much too serious before, don’t you think? You’ll find this a lot more enjoyable.” Pendragon’s tunic fell open to the waist and Lucius Tiberius rolled on top of him, pinning the shorter man to the bed. “Have you ever had good sex in your life, my heart? I don’t think you have. Oh, don’t worry,” he said, catching Pendragon’s glare. “I’m not going to take you now. We’re going to have a proper Imperial wedding night, all three of us. This is just something to whet your appetite.”

Was there something just a little hesitant, just a little uncertain about Pendragon’s scowl? “Not hungry,” he bit out, his voice nearly normal. Rider smiled, slowly, then moved his hand between Pendragon’s thighs. Took hold of his cock, felt it twitch and thicken against his palm. “Liar,” he chided gently, and squeezed.

Pendragon’s teeth snapped together to stop his groan.

“I told you before,” Lucius Tiberius murmured, “that you didn’t have to like this. Just that you had to accept it.” He tugged again, more gently and heard Pendragon pant. “Accept it, and let your body be honest. If it gets too intense for you, kick, scream, bite, scratch. That’s fine. As you might have guessed, I like it rough.” He grinned. “Just don’t try to seriously resist me. That’s all I ask.”

Arthur’s eyes closed, his expression of resignation worthy of a first-class martyr. “Do as you please,” he muttered.

Rider took Pendragon’s face between his hands, kissed his forehead, his closed eyes, and finally, his mouth. “Don’t I always?” he murmured against those sweet lips. “Unlike you, I admit my desires. You bury your heart so deeply you don’t even know it’s calling, while my hands and mouth have been all over Ayaka-” 

Arthur grabbed the back of his head and crushed his mouth against the Emperor’s.

Startled delight flicked through Lucius Tiberius. _Oh so obvious, love. But that doesn’t mean I won’t accept your offering._ The feeling of Pendragon’s fingers, wound so tightly into his hair, was intoxicating. He sighed, licked gently at Arthur’s still-closed lips, teasing, questioning. 

Pendragon’s lips parted reluctantly, but they parted. 

Lucius Tiberius kissed him slowly and thoroughly, his tongue mapping every inch of Pendragon’s mouth. He sucked Arthur’s tongue tenderly, loving the heat of him, the taste of him. _Gods, how I want you. Arthur of Britain. My dragon. Mine._ He pulled away, dragged his tongue over Pendragon’s lips, moved back to his throat. Arthur made a little groaning sound as the Emperor lapped at the mark he’d left on his skin. _One for Ayaka, one for you. I’ll make you both a collar of them_ , Rider thought, and pinched Arthur’s nipple, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Did I hurt you, love?” he murmured. His tongue stroked over Pendragon’s chest. His nails had left a small red mark over Arthur’s nipple. He licked it in apology, then gently closed his lips over the nipple and sucked.

_You like this_ , he thought as Arthur shifted beneath his mouth, trying desperately not to writhe. Rider stroked his other nipple with his fingers while he teased the sore one with his tongue. Pendragon’s nails raked the bedclothes as he grew harder and harder against the Sword Emperor’s thigh. Rider grinned. He left that nipple, moved his mouth to the other and sucked it hard, not wanting it to feel left out.

Lucius Tiberius finally released him and sat up. Pendragon’s face was flushed, his breathing heavy, his eyes half-closed. One hand clutched at the bed post. Rider took in his beauty, feeling almost light-headed with desire. Then, with a smile, he reached for the waistband of Pendragon’s breeches and eased them down.

Arthur winced like he’d been stabbed.

Rider stripped off the cloth, spread Pendragon’s thighs open and then...just stared. White skin, golden hair. A cock as red as blood, red as rubies. The king was more than half-erect and bigger than expected. “Beautiful,” the Sword Emperor finally whispered. His own erection was so painful he was starting to wonder if he’d die of lust before they even got to tonight. “Is there any part of you that isn’t gorgeous?” 

“Shut up and get on with it,” Pendragon said through gritted teeth.

That broke the spell. Rider grinned in acknowledgement. “As you command, Your Highness,” he said. He licked his palm, got it good and wet, then wrapped his fist around Pendragon’s cock. 

Arthur hissed and closed his eyes again.

The Sword Emperor worked his cock slowly, teasing. Tormenting. Honestly, he couldn’t say what was better: the velvet skin against his palm, the Red Dragon’s twisted face and smothered gasps, or the knowledge that he was giving Pendragon the first pleasurable sex he’d ever had in his life. Pendragon’s cock twitched, throbbed. “You’re getting close, Arthur,” he murmured, seeing the first pearly drops slip free. His other hand cradled Pendragon’s balls, squeezed them gently and Pendragon practically choked on his moans. “Scream if you need to. The room is soundproofed.”

In the end, Pendragon didn’t scream. Instead, he gasped, groaned low in his throat. His seed flowed thick and white over Lucius Tiberius’s hands, coating them. The Sword Emperor slipped a finger into his mouth to taste. “Bitter, like all other men. Guess no one’s perfect in every way, not even you,” he said with a wry smile. That didn’t stop him from licking his hands clean.

Pendragon lay still, except for his harsh breathing, and said nothing. His belly was flecked with white. “I’ll take care of that,” the Emperor murmured, and bent to him. Gently, thoroughly, he lapped up every drop. Nipped at Pendragon’s skin here and there. His softening cock brushed Rider’s cheek as he moved. An idea leapt out at him. _I wonder how fast I can make you come again._ He pressed his cheek against Pendragon’s cock, stroked a finger down the line of hair on Arthur’s belly. Stirred the soft golden curls at the base. 

“What are you doing now?” Arthur whispered and moved like he was trying to rise.

_Let’s find out._

Lucius Tiberius took Pendragon back in hand and swallowed him whole. 

Arthur’s breathy, broken moan nearly made the Emperor come right there and then. Through a superhuman effort he managed to hold himself back. _Fuck. If he grabs at my hair, I really will lose it. Gods, I’m going to need this taken care of, or else I’m going to fuck him stupid or fuck Ayaka stupid **right now**. And that won’t do at all_. Silken flesh twitched in his throat and he moaned, at the heat, at the softness of Pendragon’s skin. Rider released him, swirled his tongue around the head, plunged back down again. Sucked hard. Pendragon’s thigh muscles were like steel under his hands.

Arthur’s hips jerked up. Bitterness filled the Emperor’s mouth, ran down his throat. Pendragon made a noise, thick and pained and Rider wondered if that what he’d sounded like that as he’d lay dying in the grass at Camlann.

Gently, Rider released him. Pendragon’s hair was dark with sweat, his eyes hazy. He was sucking in huge gasps of air, as if he’d just been saved from drowning. Concerned, Rider tapped a finger against his cheek. Arthur’s gaze slowly refocused, moved to the Emperor’s face.

”...Warn me first if you’re going to do that again,” he croaked.

The Emperor laughed in relief. His much neglected, much abused erection stirred at the sight of Arthur’s face, so brilliantly flushed, so his. He could take care of it himself, but...

“You up for a quick lesson, love?” he asked softly.

Pendragon’s eyes immediately sharpened into wariness. He sat up. “What kind of...lesson?” he said carefully. 

Rider grinned at him. Gently, he took Arthur’s arm and moved him down, taking his place against the pillows at the head of the bed. “On how to return favors,” he said and unfastened his breeches, letting his cock fall free.

Pendragon’s expression was so diplomatically blank that the Emperor burst out laughing. He looked at Lucius Tiberius’s erection in silence for several long moments, then raised his head and said: “Please tell me that you don’t expect me to, ah, perform as you just did.”

_Ha, you liked it when I swallowed you whole, didn’t you?_ Rider thought. “Not at all, love,” he replied, with a smirk. “I know you’re a rank amateur and as I’m not a small man-” 

“That goes without saying,” Pendragon said under his breath. He shook out his hand, which had been curled into a fist. Slowly, he reached out to the Emperor.

Lucius Tiberius hissed at the first touch of those warm, calloused fingers, so slim, so strong. Desire spiked in him, ran him through like a sword. His vision briefly blurred. He took several deep breaths to recover, tousled Pendragon’s hair playfully. “Just do your best, love. I won’t hold mistakes against you. I doubt I’ll last long with your mouth on me anyway.”

Arthur muttered something that might have been Welsh and bent his head.

He was clumsy. He was clumsy and awkward and completely unskilled, his licks too light and tentative, his grip not firm enough. Rider gently cupped the back of his head. Urged his mouth down. Arthur hesitated, then finally opened his mouth, wrapped his lips around the head of the Emperor’s erection. Sucked softly. Lucius Tiberius groaned, wove his fingers through Pendragon’s hair. “Just a little harder, love,” he whispered. Arthur’s mouth, so wet and hot. Rider chewed his lip. He wanted to grab Pendragon by the hair, plunge down into that tight heat, make the king feel every inch of him. The thought left him in a moan.

And then Pendragon took a deep breath and swallowed him.

Or tried to, anyway. Lucius Tiberius felt Arthur gag around his cock, the muscles in his throat working frantically. “ _Easy!_ ” he gasped and tried to help Pendragon up. The clench of Arthur’s muscles dragged at him, so sweet, so fiery. His cock throbbed in time with his racing heart. The friction, the heat, the pressure, they bent him, lust drugged him, his mind was melting down...

“ _Fuck,_ Arthur, I’m going to-” 

Pendragon hadn’t yelled, but Rider did. 

He nearly blacked out, swam back, gasping and panting, feeling as if he had been ripped apart by one of his giant’s hands. Before his dazzled eyes, Arthur wiped white off his lips with his thumb, slow and deliberate. 

Lust sank its hooks into him again and the Emperor shook his head to clear it. _Not now._ “Show-off,” he rasped.

Pendragon looked at him coolly, the faintest hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

 

Rider plied Pendragon with wine for his raw throat, laced with a sleeping potion that his mages had thoughtfully left behind. It wouldn’t work that well on a Servant but it was effective enough to leave Arthur muzzy and half-asleep. The Emperor settled him back in bed, pulled the covers over him. “Sleep until evening. You’re going to need your rest,” he said with a wicked grin, and kissed him, stroked that golden hair one final time. 

Pendragon’s face made it clear what he thought of that order, but it wasn’t his place to refuse, and he knew it. He turned away with a mutter and a sigh and Lucius Tiberius slipped out of the room.

He hummed joyfully as he locked the door behind him. Everything has exceeded his wildest expectations and there was still Ayaka. _And tonight_ , he reminded himself, sauntering back to the living room. 

Junius Brutus sprang to his feet as soon as he entered. “Divine One!” He saluted, dropped back to his knees. “I have faithfully carried out your orders, as desired.”

“Excellent.” He looked down at Ayaka. She slept, still wrapped in his coat, in much the same position he’d left her in. “I’ll take over from here. You’re dismissed, General.”

Air swirled as the general took his leave. Lucius Tiberius reached down, stroked Ayaka’s cheek. Touched the corner of her lips. She moved a little, turned her face towards his hand. 

Rider was reminded suddenly of a photo his mages had taken of her during their reconnaissance. She had been standing in the greenhouse behind her family’s mansion, watering can in hand. His mages had captured her with her head raised, face upturned to the sun.

Before, he had thought her a dowdy little mouse of a woman, plain and uninteresting. Weak, unskilled, his mages had said. Unworthy to anchor Pendragon, if anchor she was. Then he’d been handed the latest reports. He’d sat at his desk, photo in hand and something about the way the light fell across her eyes pulled at him. 

Ayaka’s glasses sat on the table next to the couch, a neatly folded paper atop them. Aniketos reporting back.

_Your Majesty,_

_There appears to be nothing intrinsically magical about these frames. They have not been enspelled, nor infused with mana. However, my investigations indicate that trace of magic you sensed may in fact be leftover influence seeping into the metal from Lady Ayaka herself._

_The mana I discovered carries a strong feeling of repression, of control, of withholding. If I may remind Your Majesty of the discussion we held on Tuesday night? Lady Ayaka, I suspect, has secrets beyond what surface impressions suggest._

_I remain Your Majesty’s humblest servant._

Rider tore up the note and threw it away. “Secrets?” he murmured, looking down at Ayaka’s peaceful face. “Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

The couch was just big enough for two people to lie side by side, provided they lay fairly close together. Lucius Tiberius gently moved Ayaka, lay down beside her, his body tight against hers . He cradled her head against his chest, draped her arm across his stomach. She murmured something and nestled closer, her small hand clutching at his tunic. He grinned. 

“Could it be,” he whispered, laying his hand over hers, “that you’re starting to like me, just a little? It’ll make things so much easier for you if you do.”

Ayaka’s body was warm and soft against his. He stretched, filled with a contentment he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. _And there’s still so much more to come. My Arthur. My Ayaka. Sleep while you can, because tonight you won’t be sleeping at all._

Still smiling, he closed his eyes and let himself dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayaka's turn next.


	8. Chapter 8

_Ayaka crouched behind the biggest tree, watching as the man opened the door and walked into Garden. Her heart pounded. Bunches of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She didn’t know him. Why was he here so late? How did he get into the house by himself? Was he a friend of Papa’s? Of Manaka’s? His dark clothes frightened her, even though his hair was gold, like sunlight._

_He stopped in the middle of Garden, closed his eyes. All the trees rustled suddenly but it wasn’t a bad rustling, like a monster had got in. More like they were saying “hi” to him, she decided, and felt some of the butterflies go away._

_The man noticed too. He said a word she didn’t understand, opened his eyes. They were green, like leaves. Like trees._

_They were the saddest eyes she had ever seen._

_Ayaka stepped out, just a little. Even though his eyes were sad and his clothes were dark and scary, now that she could see him better, he looked... handsome. Like a prince. Like the prince in the storybook Manaka had read to her once, and never again. When Ayaka had begged her to read it again, show her the pictures, Manaka had laughed, hugged the book tight to her chest. “It’s my special story, not yours,” she had said, a secret smile on her lips, and Ayaka had to give up._

_Her fingers tingled suddenly. She looked up. He was kneeling now, in the dirt, looking straight at her! She’d been thinking of the story and all this time he could see her! Quickly, she ducked back behind the tree, feeling dizzy all over. What if he was planning to kidnap her?_

_“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady. This is a wonderful garden.”_

_Ayaka gulped. His voice seemed too nice for a kidnapper, but... “N-Nice to meet you too. Ummm...it’s Garden though, not garden.”_

_“I beg your pardon.” His voice was so...comforting. It made her want to be hugged by him and she didn’t know why. Her heart started to pound again. “Garden it is.”_

_“Are you one of Papa’s friends? Or one of my big sister’s friends?” She drew a line in the dirt with her toe. Took a chance, peeked out at him again._

_“I’m a knight,” he said and smiled at her. Somehow, his eyes weren’t sad anymore._

_Ayaka stared at him. A knight? Really a knight? Like from fairytales?_

_His smile was just like the prince’s smile from the storybook. Like the sun. Exactly like the sun, warm and wonderful and beautiful._

_Slowly, she walked over to him. He held out a hand as she got closer and she took it, no longer afraid. A strong hand that held her small one so gently._

_“My lady. This is a rather belated request, but would you permit me to protect you on behalf of your father? Would you let me become your knight?”_

_“I...I guess...Yes!” It had to be all right if Papa asked him to, right? And..._

_...this prince was all her own and not Manaka’s..._

_A huge grin spread over her face. Ayaka didn’t know why she was so happy, but she was. Bubbles of delight rose in her and she laughed._

_“Mr. Knight, what’s your name? My name is Ayaka Sajyou.”_

_“Arthur,” he replied, smiling right back at her. “My name is Arthur.”_

_She was in the middle of a bustling city. Stone buildings, people everywhere, yelling and laughing. A little boy dressed in a too-large drab brown tunic scampered in front of her, just out of reach. He darted easily through the crowds, knowing just where to dodge, where to turn. Ayaka could hear him laughing despite the noise._

_Behind her, another boy was calling_ wait up, wait up, you’re too fast, please wait!

_The first boy looked over his shoulder, grinning, then sped up and disappeared into an alley. His laughter echoed back to her, ringing off the walls._

_She’d know that wild mop of red hair even in the dark._

_Night. Snow underfoot, snow up to her knees. Wind bit at her skin. There was a crowd of unseen people behind her, uneasy, talking in low voices._

_Before her, the Sword Emperor twirled Florent and waited. She knew somehow that this one was younger than the Rider from the present day, even though he looked no different._

_Snow burst from snow. Ayaka jumped back as something the size of tall buildings heaved up from the snowdrift, roaring like an avalanche. She caught a glimpse of enormous white fangs, silver fur, maddened red eyes. It lunged at the now-tiny figure of the Emperor, claws raking the air._

_Lucius Tiberius laughed._

_He swung Florent casually, as if slicing fruit, and the beast jerked, shrieking like a million stuck gears. Hot blood splashed the snow as the beast screamed. The ground buckled at the sound of its voice, sending Ayaka sprawling in the snow. Somehow, Lucius Tiberius stayed upright. The beast lunged again, jaws snapping, right where the Emperor’s head had been a moment ago. But Lucius Tiberius had disappeared._

_He moved over the snow as easily as if were the marble floors of his own palace, so swiftly that Ayaka almost couldn’t see him. He grabbed a handful of fur, vaulted onto the creature’s back and stabbed Florent deep into its neck._

_The snow beast moaned in anguish. Its feet scrabbled weakly at the snow as it thrashed, trying to dislodge the Emperor from its body. Still laughing, he yanked Florent free and with a single swing lopped the creature’s head off._

_It rolled to a stop not far from Ayaka’s feet and she nearly screamed. The mouth moved, once, twice, then stilled._

_Silence fell along with the snow. Then cheers erupted around her._

_“Our Emperor! Our Emperor! Rome’s eternal glory, Rome’s eternal brilliance! Hail Lucius Tiberius! Hail Rome!”_

_Ayaka crouched in the snow, feeling cold all over. Atop the beast’s corpse, the blood-splattered Emperor looked directly at her and smiled._

_Night again. Dust in the air. More crowds, but this time they were in a rubble-strewn valley and the sounds they made were not ones of rejoicing._

_Thin high cries split the air. Keening. The people before her were keening, shrieking. They ran back and forth, clutching and clawing at themselves and at each other. They threw down swords, fell to their knees, screamed at the heavens._

_Blue and silver caught her eye. There was a small clear space in the distance that she could just barely glimpse through the throngs of people._

_Blue and silver, golden hair. A sword..._

_Saber’s face was so still and cold she almost didn’t recognize it. He was looking at something...on the ground..._

_Ayaka started to walk forward, but something grabbed her arm, pulled her back. Startled, she looked up._

_The Sword Emperor was standing besides her, his face pale. He took hold of her shoulder, turned her away from the wailing people, from the scorched earth._

_“Don’t look at me, Ayaka,” he said. For once, he wasn’t smiling. “I’m not a pretty sight.”_

 

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, turning everything in the room around her to gold. 

Ayaka lay in a cradle of warmth, surrounded by heat from her head to her toes. Under her cheek, a heart faintly beat. She could smell sandalwood and mint. Feel someone breathing quietly against her body. That someone languidly stroked her hair, fingers rubbing lightly at her scalp. Her right hand rested under theirs.

She tried to pretend, just for a minute, that the hand laying so warmly over hers was Arthur’s. That the person stroking her hair so gently, so possessively, was him. She let out a tiny, nearly silent sigh. No good. Saber couldn’t be possessive if his life depended on it.

And she knew damn well whose hand was actually stroking her hair.

_I slept for...a long time. How could I sleep so deeply with him around?_

The Sword Emperor chuckled, the vibration moving into her body. His hand left her hair, moved to her cheek. “Done rummaging around in my mind, lovely?” he said softly. His thumb stroked circles over the ridge of her cheekbone. “You were in there for quite a while.”

She lifted her head enough to see Rider grinning down at her. “You look pretty cheerful for someone who just relived his own death,” she said bluntly. “Why was I dreaming your memories? I’m not your Master.” _I’ve never even dreamed any of_ **Saber’s** _memories_ , she realized and felt something cut into her. “Besides, one of those was my memory, anyway.” _And I hope like hell you didn’t see it._

Rider looked intrigued. “That, I don’t know.” Slowly, he interlaced his fingers with hers, gave her hand a little squeeze. His palm was rough against her skin. “Maybe it’s a sign,” he said, and smirked.

“Of what, impending doom?” she muttered. “That last memory was of your _death_.” Saber had looked so stern, so cold. So...inhuman. And how, she realized suddenly, could Lucius Tiberius have known what was happening around him by that point? He was _dead._

Was...was it somehow possible that Saber’s memories had also been mixing with theirs while she slept?

 _Is that why I saw the memory of the two of us in Garden? How could I have forgotten Saber asking if he could be my knight? Telling me his name? I didn’t recognize him at all when he was summoned._ A chill crept through her. _Was it because...that was the same night that..._

 _Hey, Ayaka,_ a voice whispered in her ear. A sweet voice, almost angelic. _Did you talk to someone tonight?_

Dull heat pulsed through her. _Was that why, Manaka? Was that why you tried to kill me? Because I talked to your “prince” for the first and only time? Because he vowed he’d protect me? Or did you always plan to kill Papa and me? Saber killed you because you were going to end the world._ Her heart throbbed, clenched. Bitter anger filled her mouth. _Were we always supposed to die? Leave you and Saber alone together in the ruins of the world?_ Her blood felt like it was on fire, like she was going to burst into flames at any second.

_Did you ever care, ever? Was everything you said, everything you did, always fake? Sis, did you ever love me?_

Fingers slipped under her chin, tilted her head up. Rider looked down at her, his violet eyes grave. “What’s the matter, Ayaka?”

Damn him. How did the Sword Emperor have the nerve to sound honestly concerned for her? Ayaka gritted her teeth. “It’s nothing to do with _you_. Just that I realized my sister might have tried to kill me because I talked to Saber once. That’s all.”

“Ah.” Lucius Tiberius lifted the hand twined with his to his mouth. “From what I’ve been hearing, I think I hate your sister already.” His lips, soft and warm, brushed over her knuckles. “Don’t worry, Ayaka. If she really is still around and tries anything, I’ll gut her. No one lifts a hand against anything of mine. No one.”

She laughed up at him, angry, disbelieving laughter. “My sister was a genius mage even before she died and now she’s apparently the Master to _six_ Servants. So she got even more powerful, I guess. Saber already tried to kill her. It didn’t work. What makes you think _you’ll_ be any more successful? Especially now, if she really is more powerful? You couldn’t even win against Saber.”

Rider still smiled, but this time there was an edge to it. “Oh, my lovely, you haven’t seen even a _tenth_ of what I’m capable of.” His grin widened, showing his teeth. For the first time, Ayaka noticed his canines were ever-so-slightly too sharp for a human smile. A chill finger touched her heart. “I am a _god_. I’ve slaughtered my way through legends, sweet, one after the other. _Demons_ used to run when they heard I was coming. It takes a god to kill another god, no matter how much Pendragon tries to downplay himself.” He pulled her forward, close enough to feel his breath on her lips. His eyes glowed with violet fire. “I’m not afraid of some mortal girl, no matter how powerful she claims to be.” 

Ayaka should have been afraid, but all she felt was another stab of anger. “Maybe you should be,” she retorted. “Saber is. Didn’t you die because you underestimated him? You vowed to protect me. That’s the only reason I’m putting up with you, but you can’t do that if you end up _dead_.”

“I _died_ because I was holding back. He wasn’t. I wanted to take Pendragon for myself, not kill him.” A slow, cruel smile replaced the Emperor’s grin. His right hand slid under her blouse, rested against her spine, stroking lightly. “And my protection is the _only_ reason you’re putting up with me?” His fingers played with the clasp of her bra. Fire and ice went through her. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you sure about that? Shall we find out...?”

 _Why are you making him angry?_ a tiny, frightened voice yammered inside her. _Aren’t things bad enough? Oh Ayaka, stop, stop, please stop-_

The Emperor was leaning forward, his eyes intent, his mouth almost touching hers. Her glasses were missing, she realized suddenly. _Why didn’t I notice my glasses were missing?_

“Where are my glasses?” she blurted out, startling Rider into a stop. His smile lost its cruelty, became almost amused. 

“Oh, you mean these?” he said casually. He let her hand go and reached behind him, dangled her glasses from his index finger. Ayaka sat up, went to take them from him. His coat fell from her shoulders, leaving her cold. Lucius Tiberius smirked at her, then pushed himself up into a crouching position and stretched his arm out to its full length, keeping them out of her reach.

“Hey! Give them back!” No matter how hard she tried, his hand was always a little too far away. Frustrated, she gave in and climbed up his body, one hand gripping his head, the other on his arm to keep it still. His hair, she realized for the first time, was strangely soft. “Are you a _child_?”

“Two women in one!” he gasped, his shoulders shaking with laughter. The hand holding her glasses bobbed and weaved, somehow managing to elude all her attempts to grab them. “Which do I prefer, I wonder?”

Just as her fingers closed on her glasses, he jerked his arm and took them back. “Sorry, lovely, but I think I want to keep talking to _this_ Ayaka for a while longer. Find out which one is the real you.” His eyes glittered. “My mages were right. Pendragon is as beautiful and as straightforward as the dawn, but you’re a mystery, Ayaka Sajyou.” Rider’s voice dropped into a purr. A slow smile curved his lips as he placed her glasses somewhere out of sight. “And I _really_ enjoy mysteries.”

She dropped to her knees. Glared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly. Her heart started to throb again.

“Oh, I think you do,” Rider said softly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hard against his body. 

The heat from his skin burned into hers. She was almost straddling the Emperor’s lap, knees on either side of his thighs. Ayaka took a deep breath. _You have to, Ayaka. For Saber’s sake. It’s okay. It’ll be okay._

_I’ll be okay._

Slowly, she put her arms around his neck.

“That’s right, lovely,” he whispered in her ear. “Accept me.” His tongue flicked against her earlobe, circled it. Sucked it. A rush of heat went down her back. She closed her lips tightly. “You like it when I do that, hm? Don’t worry about making noise. The room’s soundproofed and Pendragon can’t hear you from where he is anyway. Besides, _I_ want to hear you.”

Her fingers clenched on his back. “Where is Saber?” she asked, pulling away to look at Rider. “Hasn’t he been gone a long time now?”

“He’s sleeping,” the Emperor said nonchalantly. “He was a bit worn-out after what happened earlier.” Something gleeful and private flashed over his smile. Whatever it was, it made her uneasy. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be joining us soon enough. Not much time left before evening.” His lips found her jaw, bit lightly at her skin. Wet heat against her throat. Ayaka closed her eyes as Rider kissed every inch of her neck, slow deliberate kisses that made her heart pound. “Skin like cream, so beautiful,” he muttered and bit down on the mark he’d left earlier.

Ayaka cried out as he sucked hard at her throat, working her skin between his teeth. It _hurt_ , but-

Rider’s thigh came up between her legs, pressed lightly at first, then harder. His arms tightened, holding her so close to him they were almost one body.

She moaned. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Heat was blossoming inside her, centered between her legs, that horrible pleasure again, and she _hated_ him and he was-

Lucius Tiberius pulled away from her throat finally. Kissed her lips softly, as if in apology, but she could see the grin in his eyes. “It was starting to fade,” he said.

Her neck throbbed. “When,” she muttered against the side of his head, “do I get to bite _you_?”

“You want to?” the Emperor murmured. He moved her back, sat her on his knees. An odd light shone in his eyes as he reached up and pulled the high collar of his tunic away from his throat. Ayaka noticed that he was wearing nearly the same tunic as Saber, only in black and red instead of blue and without the fur edging at the collar. “Go ahead.”

She looked at him, waiting for the trick.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. His tongue touched the corner of his lips, just for an instant. “Be as rough with me as you’d like. Bite me, kick me, scratch me, pull my hair-I _really_ like that, by the way. Do as you please, just as long as you’re not trying to actually resist me.”

Rider’s bared skin shone, pale and tempting. Ayaka gave him a long, hard, considering look. Then she leaned forward and put her mouth to his neck.

His skin was so hot and smooth. Blood pulsed softly under her lips. _Is this what he feels when he kisses me?_ she wondered, feeling a little dizzy. _No wonder he likes my neck._ Her lips parted as she pressed a hesitant kiss to his throat. The Emperor’s arms tightened. Encouraged. She licked carefully at that smooth skin and he made a noise in her ear. 

Heat moved within her. She licked again, then closed her lips on that soft warm skin and tried to suck but his skin was so firm she couldn’t really get any purchase. His fingers tangled in her hair, just shy of painful. Something hard nudged against the inside of her thigh. Automatically, she tried to move away and realized she couldn’t. The Emperor chuckled. Deliberately, he pushed her down so she was right on top of that hardness, pressed his hips into hers. Slowly, he rubbed against her through the thin cloth of her tights and underwear. Thrust up between her legs, sent bolts of anger and pleasure through her body. She growled into his skin. A warning. A threat.

“Any day now, my darling,” the Emperor whispered into her ear, hips still rocking against her. His tongue followed his words, stroking, teasing. Teeth on her earlobe, stinging pain. She moaned, just a little. Then, the soothing heat of his tongue.“You were so eager before. What- _ahhhh!_ ”

She’d given up on pretense, given up on technique and sank her teeth into his throat, good and hard. Rider’s strangled moan and the way he clutched at her body almost made up for everything he’d put her through before. Ayaka held him for a minute, teeth worrying at his skin, then pulled away. Her heart pounded, with satisfaction and with fear. Human teeth couldn’t do much against a Servant’s skin, but there was a small red mark on his neck, livid against his pale skin. Despite her fear, she touched it, felt it throb under her fingers.

The Emperor looked at her through half-closed eyes. One hand grasped the hand at his throat, encircling her wrist, but his grip was gentle. He said something softly, something in a language she couldn’t understand. “I’m...sorry?”

“I said,” the Emperor replied in his normal tone of voice, “that you’re my small beast. Mine. Aren’t you?” He kissed her, sudden and hard, his tongue winding around hers, trapping it. Ayaka moaned, threw fear aside and shoved her tongue back against his. _You said rough. I’ll give you rough._ Saliva ran from their mouths as they kissed. He licked her lips, licked her cheek, her chin, captured her mouth again. Rider’s mouth was greedy, savaging hers as they battled back and forth, each trying to subdue the other. He bit at her mouth; she went after his tongue. Caught it, sank her teeth into it. Rider made a sound like a muffled yell and ripped her blouse open, worked his hands under the clasp of her bra. Opened it. Skin against skin, scorching heat in her belly.

Fire in her mind. 

Rider’s rough hands cupped her breasts, squeezed them. Stroked them. A calloused thumb circled one nipple. Two fingers closed on the other, pinched hard enough to make her toes curl with pain and the faintest hint of pleasure. Ayaka gasped. Lucius Tiberius moaned into her mouth. In return she clawed at his back. Yanked at his hair. That brought her a groan. He pulled her hands free, interlaced her fingers with his and shoved her down on the couch, their teeth scraping together as they landed.

Rider sucked her tongue one final time and pulled away. He grinned down at her, flush-faced, wet-mouthed, triumphant. “You know, lovely, if Pendragon had me at his mercy, he would just stab me through the heart and be done with it. Not you, though. No, you want to hurt me. You want to rip and tear and claw me apart. Don’t you?” His voice sounded exultant. Hungry. “That’s why you’re a beast. Pendragon restrains himself except when he thinks evil’s concerned. He’s a noble beast. Me, I take what I want, kill when I please. I’m a demon beast.” He released one hand, stroked his fingers over the top of her breast. Touched the hollow of her heart, traced her Master’s Degree. His fingers were gentle but utterly possessive. “So where,” he whispered, “on the spectrum do _you_ lie?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered. She was drenched in sweat, her mouth ached and Lucius Tiberius’s knee was rubbing against her again, a slow, maddening pressure between her thighs. Worst of all was the sticky dampness she could feel between her legs. 

The Emperor slid a hand under her back, lifted her upper body as if she weighed no more than a feather. He eased a finger under the front gusset of her bra. “I don’t like this garment. It hides you and it’s ugly,” he said cheerfully and yanked it up, freeing her breasts. A hot wave of embarrassment sank into her as Rider stared at her exposed skin, a smirk of appreciation on his lips. Her face felt like it was coated in lava.

Rider’s free hand cupped her left breast, stroked it gently. Massaged it, flicked his thumb over the taut peak of her nipple. The callouses on his hand dragged at her skin, left faint red marks. Ayaka closed her eyes, feeling light-headed and almost sick from the heat of his skin, the heat between her legs. “Take that off. You can put your blouse back on if you’re cold. Then, lie down,” he said softly, the lust in his voice unmistakable.

Something like a pit opened in her stomach. Ayaka’s fingers went cold and clumsy as she fumbled with her blouse. The soft cotton snagged on her fingers as she slowly slid it off her arms, put it aside. Her arms broke out in gooseflesh. When had the room gotten so cold? She reached for the straps of her bra but Rider’s hands were already there, tugging it down her arms and off. He dropped it next to the couch, stroked his hands up and down her now-bare arms. Every muscle in her body had frozen. “Cold, lovely?” 

Ayaka was shivering, her teeth almost chattering. “Yes.”

He draped her blouse back around her shoulders. Ayaka shoved her arms back into the sleeves, absurdly grateful for even a little bit more coverage. Rider took her chin in his hand, lifted her face to his. “Such a terrified expression,” he murmured. His mouth was serious but there was a smirk dancing somewhere deep in his eyes. “Relax, Ayaka. I’m not going to deflower you. That’s tonight. Right now is,” the smirk returned to his mouth, “just a good time.”

“Why later? Why tonight?” she snapped, relief making her careless. “Can’t we just...” Her voice skipped. “...Get this over with?”

The Emperor laughed and kissed her lightly. “My, my,” he drawled, “so eager for the marriage bed, are we? Guess I shouldn’t have bothered with the aphrodisiacs in your food.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did... “You drugged me?” she snarled. Fury smeared her vision. Before she knew what she was doing, she was up on her knees, right in his face. Her hands wrapped tight around the Emperor’s throat, squeezing for all she was worth. “Bastard, you _drugged_ me?”

Lucius Tiberius laughed up at her, unfazed. He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Joking! Joking!” Grinning, he took hold of her hands, unwound them from his throat. “You always go straight for my neck, Ayaka. Does that mean something?” Hungry purred through his voice again. “Do you want to put a collar and leash on me? See me beg? My lovely little beast.” He kissed her deeply, tongue hot and demanding, and gently pushed her down. “Together we’re going to have so much _fun_.”

Ayaka forgot how to breathe.

Stars. She saw stars, millions of them. The Emperor’s mouth was on her collarbone, sucking and biting another red mark into her skin. Her breasts ached under his hands as he fondled them, pinching and tugging at her nipples. Ayaka grabbed at his head, snarled her fingers into his hair. The gesture made her feel a little less anxious, a little more in control. Rider moaned softly. His tongue licked the top of her breast, dragged, slow and hot, to her nipple. He took it in his mouth, sucked, gently at first, then more roughly. A hint of teeth against her skin, then he bit, sending lightning through her blood. She whimpered and twitched, trying not to buck, agonizingly conscious of the wetness between her thighs.

Lucius Tiberius pushed her breasts together. Rested his face against them for a minute, eyes closed. He groaned, then began to suck her other nipple, scraping his teeth against her skin. She squirmed, her lips sealed shut on her moans. One of Rider’s hand went under her skirt, caressed her hip. That hand took hold of the waistband of her tights, started to pull them down.

“ _Wait-_ ” 

“You don’t need these anymore,” he murmured into her breast. A single sharp yank and Ayaka felt them tear. He peeled away the shreds of cloth, his hand caressing her leg, tickling her calf.

Cold air, hot skin. A shudder wracked her body. Fire and ice, pleasure and agony. Lust eating her. Hatred steadying her. Lucius Tiberius bit tenderly at the underside of her breast, traced the line of a rib with his tongue. The hand on her thigh toyed with the edge of her underwear. Began to ease the cloth down. Horror smacked her. “You said-” 

“Just my fingers,” he said softly. The left side of her underwear was now down around the top of her leg.“Only my fingers.” His hand moved inward, stroked the wetness on the inside of her thigh. Smeared it over her skin.

Every drop of blood in her body rushed to her face. _Now he knows_ , she thought miserably and shut her eyes.

Rider laughed quietly and kissed her neck. “Don’t be shy, Ayaka. Your body’s being honest and that’s all I ask.” His fingers played with the soaked curls between her legs. Slowly, they parted her folds, stroked up and down, exploring, caressing. Ayaka’s fingers clamped down on his arm. The Emperor kissed her, his mouth sweet against hers, pulled gently at her folds. He brushed his thumb delicately over the nub at their apex and Ayaka gasped into his mouth.

Lucius Tiberius’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his face crimson-flushed. “Ayaka,” he whispered, put his thumb firmly against her and began to rub.

This time she couldn’t stop her moans. Her hips bucked, her back arched, pressing her even more tightly against his hands. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, raked at his skin, sweating all over. It was so bad and he was making it worse, the bastard, and she _needed_ him to keep making it worse, that was the most awful thing of all-

Something hot slipped inside her, filling her up, stretching her and she threw her head back. A cry ripped from someplace deep inside her belly. She was falling apart, she couldn’t take it anymore, but she couldn’t...not with him...

“Relax. Come,” Lucius Tiberius said. His voice sounded very far away. “It’s all right, Ayaka. Come, come all over me.” The fingers inside her moved, twisted, rubbed hard against a certain place-

All her nerves snapped at once, burned her alive. She was arching, moaning, dying. Tears streamed from her eyes. Rider groaned above her as she buried her face in the black silk of his sleeve, bit down hard at the crook of his arm to muffle her cries, and shook like a reed in a tempest.

Slowly, the storm ebbed away. She lay half-sprawled on the Emperor’s lap, muddled and shaky, still clutching his arm. Her underwear had somehow gone missing in the fray. Lucius Tiberius was taking slow, deep breaths, his heart loud against her ear. His free hand flipped her skirt back down, stroked her leg absently. Ayaka leaned against his chest, too tired to care, and looked out the window. The sun was setting in a reddish blaze of glory, the first stars white against the darker blue of night. 

“It’s nearly evening,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

Night. Weddings. Sacrifices. “Yes,” she said wearily, rubbed at stray tears on her cheeks. “Before...before...we...ah...I’d like to take a bath first.” Bathe and put herself back together, if she could, before she let Rider take her apart again. 

Before Saber saw her like this.

The Emperor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he kissed the top of her head, her cheek. Smoothed her wet hair back from her face. “Ayaka.” His voice sounded serious. “I love Pendragon. That will never change. But.” His arms tightened around her, guided her head down to his shoulder. “I also like you.”

How to respond to that? “Um. Good? Thank you?” she said after a beat.

Warm fingers touched her cheek, her lips. “Ayaka. You know, don’t you, that once this Grail War is over, Pendragon will disappear. You’ll never see him again.”

She hissed and closed her eyes. Pain thumped dully inside her heart. “What? What does this have to do with anything?” 

_Idiot, of course I know Saber will disappear. Of course I know I’ll never see him again. That’s why I’m never going to tell him._ Her hand crept over her heart, pressed it hard, trying in vain to soothe it. _Because we can never be together._

His fingers traced her face, gentle, condoling. “It matters because you’re in love with Arthur, aren’t you? It’s so obvious,” he said when she opened her eyes, started to make noises of denial. “You don’t do something so colossally stupid as try to fight a Servant one on one, or try to grab their sword bare-handed without an excuse like love. Your hands were in ruins when I brought you back, Ayaka. It actually pained me to see them.” He raised her hand, kissed her palm, licked it. Kissed it again. 

“Because you love him....because I like you...I’m going to make you another offer. If you want to have any chance at all of seeing Pendragon again, swear yourself to me completely. Not just for the duration of the Grail War. For eternity.” His eyes burned into hers. “Do that, and when you die, you’ll join with me and my people. Become one of mine. Not as just anyone, either. My consort.” He grinned at her suddenly. “Ever thought about becoming an Empress?”

Ayaka felt like she’d been punched in the heart. _“What?”_

Rider tilted his head. Patted her hand. “What’s so shocking about my offer? Like I said, refuse and you’ll never see Pendragon again. Accept and maybe, just maybe, we’ll be summoned together into a Grail War someday. If you’re so desperately in love that you’d try to throw yourself away in order to save him, I don’t see why eternity with me is such a horrible proposition. Heroic Spirits don’t reincarnate like ordinary humans, lovely. We’re forever removed from that cycle. From _you_.” Bitterness and something not far from sorrow crept into the Emperor’s tone. “Do you want to live out your life seeing him only in books, Ayaka, knowing that you had and lost the real thing? That there’s absolutely no chance of ever seeing him again, of being with him again? Then come with me. I’m offering you eternity, lovely. The chance to become eternal like myself, like Pendragon. ”

Her head was spinning, her heart pounding. Was he crazy? Was _she_? Eternity with Lucius Tiberius in the slim hope that she might see Saber again someday? 

But...never seeing Saber again. Never speaking to him, never having him tease her by stealing her glasses, never having him cook breakfast for her again. Knowing him only for a handful of days, loving him for a lifetime. Day after day, thinking of him, dreaming of him and all the while the gnawing pain of losing him forever.

Lucius Tiberius had known Saber for a day, had loved him for fourteen hundred years. _He_ was able to meet the one he loved again because they were eternal, even though his beloved hated him. She wouldn’t be given that chance. Was that fair? Was that right? 

Manaka was being given another chance too. Why? Had she achieved “eternity” as well?

A hole opened up in her chest. 

“I...” 

“Join my coalition. Swear yourself to me. Become eternal with me.” The Emperor took her hands, twined his fingers with her own. His skin was boiling hot, his eyes glittering feverishly. “If you don’t, Ayaka Sajyou will die and fade away, be lost to time. Say yes, stay with me. Stay with _us_.” 

_“No.”_

Saber stood in the door. His face was as cold and still as the night he’d killed Lucius Tiberius but his eyes burned like Excalibur’s light. “Absolutely _not_.” He crossed the room in two quick strides and grabbed Rider’s collar, forcing the other man to look up at him. “Sword Emperor, what poison are you brewing now? Haven’t you done enough already? Did you really think I’d let you entrap Ayaka for eternity?”

Rider smiled up at him, slow, satisfied. “Not at all,” he purred and Ayaka had the distinct feeling that this was somehow all going according to a plan. “But isn't it Ayaka's decision to make, not yours?" Saber looked like Lucius Tiberius had stabbed him. "And _entrapment_? That’s harsh. I’m simply offering to make her my Empress so she can enjoy eternity along with me. Along with us.”

Belatedly, Ayaka realized that while her skirt was down, her blouse was still open to the waist. The marks Rider had left on her neck, her stomach, her _breasts_ stood out plainly, red over white. Face flaming, she yanked her hands away from the Emperor’s and frantically re-fastened the buttons still left.

Saber didn’t notice, or at least pretended he didn’t. “Why?” he asked, voice diamond-hard. “Why make such an offer? Why think that Ayaka would ever accept another bargain from you? You’ve already taken so much and have yet to deliver on your end. Why think her so foolish?”

Her breath shortened at Saber’s words. _He didn’t hear the first part,_ she realized, and couldn’t tell if she was glad or sorry.

The Emperor’s smile widened. “Why, my heart, my Arthur? Because of love,” he said softly, and Saber’s face suddenly went pale. Rider laughed, low and eager. He leaned up, kissed Saber tenderly, then stood Ayaka on her feet and rose. Stretched. Continued to smile at them.

“It’s nearly time. Ayaka, you can think on this a while, but don't wait too long. After all, I'm _temporary_." His eyes caressed them, his gaze like an invisible hand gliding over her skin. “In the meantime, you should both go, prepare yourselves. Ayaka, there’s a bath that way, clothes in the dressing room. The two of you should pick something suitable for a wedding.” Rider bent, kissed her lightly, did the same to Saber. His eyes were very bright. “Go now. I have my own preparations to make, but I don’t intend to be kept waiting.” 

Saber touched her hand, very gently. “Ayaka.” His eyes were very dark against the whiteness of his face, his mouth shaping a soundless, sorrowful question. 

It was too hard to look at him. She turned her face away and nodded. “We should go,” she said quietly. Taking his hand, she led him from the room, leaving the Emperor behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so loooong. so very looooong. i actually had to cut out part of the sex scene because this chapter was getting so long. sorry.
> 
> everyone, go here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2009609915946795.1073742004.1755939694647153&type=3 
> 
> scroll down, and look at the utter adorableness of tiny ayaka with arthur asking to be her knight. (lucius tiberius is also there but you've probably seen him already)
> 
> lucius tiberius's comment about even demons being afraid of him is straight from canon, btw. he really is a beast.


	9. Chapter 9

She’d come so _hard_ for him.

Rider pressed his face into his pillows and moaned. 

Gods, Pendragon had a really obnoxious habit of interrupting him just when things with Ayaka were getting fun.

The silk of the bedclothes was cool against his hot forehead. _Soon, soon, soon_. His hand clenched on his aching, too-hard cock, worked it feverishly. His lovely little beast, squirming and panting and shuddering on his lap. It had taken every last drop of his self-control not to take her right there, not to come right there, not to bury himself to the hilt inside her, hear her gasp and whimper. Feel her cunt, so hot and smooth, around him. Feel her rake and claw and bite him-

Gods, if Ayaka clamped down on his cock the way she’d gripped his fingers...

So soft, so tight, so _wet_. She’d moaned so beautifully for him. Rider shoved the fingers that had been inside her cunt into his mouth, sucked them greedily. He’d licked them clean when Ayaka had been recovering from her orgasm, but faint traces of her sweetness still lingered on his skin. He was going to spread her legs wide and drink her down until her fingers tore his scalp and she was twitching and moaning and _begging_ -

Lighting licked at him as he came in great, shuddering gasps. Stars danced within the blackness of his closed eyes. Every cell in his body was burning, gorgeous annihilating fire like Pendragon’s Excalibur. 

Slowly, he drifted back to himself, feeling wonderfully boneless and empty. _Gods, they’re going to kill me, tear me apart, wring me out, drain me dry._ He lay there, ablaze with love, eyes still shut, smiling quietly to himself. By this time tomorrow they’d be his, sealed irrevocably.

_Now, the important question: who do I fuck first?_

It would be easiest to take Ayaka, then Pendragon. However it seemed...churlish to make the owner of his heart wait any longer than necessary. _Though, again, what the hell does “waiting” matter after fourteen centuries? Of course, the optimal way to handle things would be for us to share Ayaka...but I think that might be a little too advanced for her._ Heat stirred within him as he thought of Pendragon and Ayaka in his arms together. Ayaka writhing between their bodies. Feeling Pendragon’s cock moving in tandem with his as they thrust within her...

Rider groaned, ran a finger lightly around his cock. He could still feel the ghost of Arthur’s mouth on him, swallowing the Emperor down as if Pendragon truly desired him. _I’m going to fuck him so hard he’ll still be feeling it a year from now._ Lust simmered in his skin, a sweet threat waiting patiently to devour him alive. Reluctantly, he took his hand away and rose. “I really might just die between the two of them,” he muttered as he made his way to the bathing room. “Pendragon will be able to brag that I’ve died twice out of sheer lust for him. He’d probably be thrilled.”

Inside, he waved his attendants out, wanting a last breath of peace and quiet before the festivities got underway. The Emperor sank into the hot water with a groan. Near-boiling, just the way he liked it. He breathed in scent and steam. Humming, he soaped himself, washed his hair. Little dots of soreness peppered his shoulders as he cleaned himself. His scalp still ached slightly from Ayaka’s hands. Would she be as vicious with Pendragon watching? The one drawback; together, the two of them would be even more awkward, terrified of letting go, lest the other see them come apart. _I really do think I’ll have to schedule some alone time with each of them after this_ , he thought, and grinned.

On the way out, he paused at the mirror. The mark Ayaka had left on his throat had faded to a barely visible smudge on his skin. Grinning, he pinched his neck, tugging and pulling at his skin until the mark throbbed, deepened from pink to crimson. _My sweet little beast. Mmmm, I can’t wait to feel your fangs once more._

Back in the bedroom, he drew on a loose tunic and a robe, then summoned one of his house servants. “Tell the King of Britain and Lady Ayaka not to rush,” he said. “Say that my preparations are taking longer than expected.”

The man bowed and vanished. Rider collapsed back into the silk of his bedclothes, stretched. Ran a hand through his wet hair. Heroic Spirits didn’t need sleep, but rest and meditative quiet never hurt, and he’d had precious little of either over the past four days. Besides, a 1400 year old dream was about to end in another hour or two. Might as well savor the last lingering bits of it while he could. _Though, I’m sure Arthur and Ayaka will resent me dragging this out even further...sorry, my heart, my darling, but I’m not trying to hurt you. Can’t blame me for wanting to be at my best, can you? So, be patient, and wait a little longer for me._ He grinned, sharp and hungry. _I’ll definitely make it worth your while._

Blackness spread over him, very gently. He let himself float in the void, his mind skimming a kaleidoscope of feelings and images. Pendragon burning like an angel of retribution on the battlefield, opening his eyes in a strange new world, Marcus’s thin hand in his, wine on his tongue, his mother laughing down at him, Ayaka driving that knife into his body, Pendragon’s eyes, so hard, so beautiful, Florent aflame in his grip, the softness of Ayaka’s skin under his mouth, Arthur gasping against him, mud under his feet and blood in his hair while he laughed and laughed...

The door to his room opened and soft footsteps drew near. Stopped at his bed.

A hand took hold of his forelock, smoothed it back and away from his face. Stroked his forehead. Lucius Tiberius sighed and leaned into the familiar, loving touch. “Your hair wants cutting.” Her voice sharpened. “And when, exactly, did you intend to tell me you were getting married?”

Lucius Tiberius opened his eyes with a grin. Julia Drusilla sat besides him, looking serene and composed in a soft, pale-blue gown and a filigree headband he remembered as being a favorite of hers. “Always the hair! I don’t think you can cut a Heroic Spirit’s hair, unfortunately. And soon enough, Mother. I’ve been busy.” He leaned up to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry I can’t invite you to the wedding, but it’s going to be rather...unorthodox.”

His stepmother looked at him wryly. “There are so many things I could say to you. Starting with: why, after years of sleeping your way through most of the men and half of the women in Rome; after years of refusing all comers, both suitable and not, for the position of Empress, and-of course-being dead for fourteen centuries, you finally decide to get married _now_ -” 

Rider shrugged. “Chance, opportunity, fate. I’m not sorry. It’s better this way. We’ve gone beyond death. Now, there’s nothing that can stand between us.” A crooked little smile slipped over his mouth. “Excalibur can’t get rid of me this time. There’s no place for him to run.”

Julia Drusilla looked thoughtfully at him. “I saw your Arthur before, you know,” she said with a dry half-smile. One hand reached up and patted the back of her hair, a gesture she only used when she was out of sorts. “He passed by with the trio, on his way to be healed. How I do hate to admit this, Lucius, but..I understand your folly now.”

_Ah, I remember that tone of voice. Maternal lecture incoming._ He rolled to face her. “That I chose him should have been enough of an endorsement, don’t you think? Britain may have been a land of primitives in the ass-end of nowhere, but sometimes the most beautiful flowers grow from the foulest manure.”

“Manure?” Julia Drusilla replied with glacial calm. “Certainly. That’s how I used to regard him. I hated him. Even knowing how you felt, how I despised him for your death. King of a pissant country. What arrogance, what effrontery, to strike down Rome! And then, to die a humiliating death at the hands of his own bastard born of incest. How had Rome displeased the gods, I wondered, to be cast down in such a fashion?” 

She stopped and the Emperor, to his astonishment, saw the glitter of tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath, then continued, her voice never losing its elegant composure: “The one boon the gods granted me was that I had already died, else he would have killed me too.” 

Alarmed, he sat up, enfolded her hand in both of his. “Mother-” 

She smiled and shook her head. Laid her free hand over his and patted him comfortingly. “Dearest. Don’t worry. It’s all in the past, isn’t it? As I said, I understand now.” Her gaze turned distant. “Filthy and wounded as he was, I have never seen such pure, concentrated...radiance personified. Eternal sunlight, distilled into a human hide. The air about him _breathed_ goodness. I don’t wonder how you immediately lost your heart to him.” 

A slightly horrified silence fell. Then his stepmother’s smile turned roguish. “No pun intended, of course.”

He had to laugh. “None taken!”

Julia Drusilla squeezed his hand. “Why someone like him was wasted on a little mudhole of a kingdom, when he could have been ornamenting the Roman throne, is a mystery to me. Still.” Her voice turned serious. “Lucius. I want you to be careful.”

“Of Arthur? Mother, your concern does you credit, but-” 

“He is a relentlessly good man.” She leaned forward, her eyes grave. “He killed you once. He is not here of his own will. From what I understand, to claim the Grail, the other six Servants must die. Surely, he has a deeply held wish, or else he would not be participating in a Holy Grail War. When the time comes, what is to stop him,” her voice broke, almost imperceptibly, “from wielding that sword against you once more?"

Julia Drusilla pulled herself upright, raised her chin, but he could see her shoulders shaking. "I’ve tried death once already. Throne of Heroes or not, the self that’s _here_ doesn’t remember what eternity feels like _there_. Perhaps it’s nothing more than a long blank sleep. Therefore, I much prefer the world where I can smell flowers, feel the wind, touch and kiss my son, boss my maids and taste food once more, even if I don’t truly need to eat it. ”

Rider stroked her trembling hand. “I know, Mother, I know. Trust me. Want to know what will stop him? Simple. I’m holding his heart in my hand. Ayaka Sajyou is mine, or soon will be. Everything he loves, I’ll take for myself, make it my own. Then he’ll have no choice but to come to me. As long as I have Ayaka safely in my arms, I have Arthur. In fact, he should be thanking me.” His smile was fierce. “I’m handing him Ayaka on a silver platter. His damned nobility would have kept his mouth shut until the maw of time devoured her.”

_Arthur, Arthur, when are you going to learn? Either you seize what you want or you lose it and grieve yourself sick over the absence. Do you truly think it better to mourn Ayaka through eternity than to see her exalted at my side? I’m giving you what you secretly crave, love. Be grateful._

“Ah, yes. Ayaka Sajyou.” She gave him a shrewd, bright glance. “Her, I have yet to see. According to my maids, she’s quite...plain. Junius Brutus thinks she hung the moon, but Junius Brutus would think it magnificent if you ordered him to chop off his own head and go to his death singing your praises. Aniketos merely smiled that bland smile of his and told me to wait and see. I’m assuming that there’s more to her than convenient leverage against the king of Britain, since you apparently intend to wed her as well? After all, Rome boasted hundreds of mediocre maidens and you never showed the slightest interest in any of them, not even for a marriage of convenience-” 

The Sword Emperor threw back his head and laughed, deep and hard. “I know! She looks like a little grey mouse but Ayaka is one hundred and five pounds of rage and mystery shielded by frumpy clothes and glasses. Take those away and you have a damn fine woman. True, at first, I didn’t think much of her either. But then she tried to gut me with a knife and nearly broke herself open on Florent while trying to save Pendragon. How could I pass up something so interesting? So, I got to know her a little better, and...” Her soft frantic breathing against his ear, her breasts in his hands. Her mouth, hot and sweet and untouched. Her cunt, so tight around his fingers. 

Rider closed his eyes, feeling light-headed with desire. “She’s worthy of eternity,” he said finally, a little surprised his voice sounded so normal, so calm. “With or without Pendragon, she’s worthy. I truly hope she’s smart enough to accept the inevitable. I want her willing. Otherwise-”

“Hmph. You always fell hard when you did fall. I should have guessed long ago that sheer bloody violence was the key to your heart.” His stepmother’s hand was again steady in his, her eyebrows raised, her smile sardonic. “Had I known, I would have given some of the more eligible girls the way to the secret passage to your rooms, a couple of adders, and a very sharp axe. Well, this Ayaka would be a damned fool to pass you up. A rustic turning down the position of Empress of Rome? _Eternal_ Empress of Rome? Unheard of.”

Lucius Tiberius’s smile felt tight. “Problem is, Ayaka keeps herself almost as rigid with _goodness_ as Pendragon. She’s a woman who’d rather cripple her powers by cutting herself instead of killing a few birds. Instead of receiving my attentions as the blessing they are, she thinks me little better than a snake.” _Though she was happy enough to kiss and claw and bite said snake, and get soaking, dripping, wet while doing so-_

_My darling small beast, how long do you think you can hide?_

“But,” he continued, “if she thinks I’m going to let someone so interesting slip out of my hands, she’d better think again." His face twisted, his voice went sharp and low. _"Everything in this world belongs to me_ , and she'd better accept that. May lightning consume me if I fail to keep hold of her! I won’t see Ayaka lost.”

Julia Drusilla looked at him, then gave a small shake of her head, her eyes dark with knowing sorrow. “Still? I understand, truly I do, but stop it, Lucius. Do you think my cousin would be pleased? Knowing that you’re still tormenting yourself because she died before she could reach your eternity with the rest of us? I won’t see you so reckless over a slip of a girl. If she refuses and your clutching at her provokes Pendragon...”

His grin was ugly and he knew it. “What’s he going to do? Death holds no meaning for either of us anymore. He can’t erase me from the Throne. He’d die a thousand deaths before he allowed Ayaka to be hurt. She’s the chain around his neck and I’m the lock holding her fast. No matter how long it takes, I’ll come for him over and over again until he’s _mine_. Ayaka too. She’s his heart. I won’t let either of them get away.”

A burning giddiness was swelling, deep inside his chest. It felt like a thousand points of light stabbing at him, like the brief glimpse he’d gotten of Excalibur’s brilliance before it had blown him to ash.

“No more games. Pendragon won once, but not this time. Ayaka will be eternal with us. Whether she likes it...or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the slightly delayed update. please blame the olympics and the kara no kyoukai fgo event.
> 
> this is another chapter that got way too long, so i'm posting this section as is. originally it was supposed to be a three way split pov between ayaka, arthur and lucius tiberius but lucius's section went long (surprise) and god only knows how long ayaka's section is going to be.
> 
> ayaka and arthur next. then...


	10. Chapter 10

The bath room was low and square, filled with twilight shadows. Steam rose from the tub at the far end of the room, scented with something rich and dry, like fine wood. Thick towels hung from a carved rack. Neither she nor Saber felt like turning on the lights.

Benches had been built around the edges of the room. They sat on the one nearest to the door, side by side, close, but not touching. Saber folded his hands in his lap. Ayaka wrapped her arms around her body, stared out the window at the blue and orange sky. They really should be getting ready, but...

She ached, heart and body both. She could still feel the Emperor’s mouth against hers, his hands on her breasts, between her legs. Especially between her legs. Pleasure and pain. Desire and rage. Tonight, she’d have to watch him touch Saber. Kiss him. Take him. Anger lay like a stone in her stomach. Why couldn't he just take _her?_ Far easier, if only Saber didn’t have to watch. And any second now, Arthur would turn to her, ask her what she meant to do about Lucius Tiberius’s proposal. About what the Sword Emperor meant when he spoke of love...

“Ayaka,” Saber said, very quietly, and she jumped. His eyes were not on her but on his clasped hands. “Don’t...don’t let Lucius Tiberius warp pleasure for you.”

Gentle hands and sharp teeth. Hatred and lust curled together as one. Red marks on white skin. Her teeth in his throat, his tongue between her teeth. His fingers inside her, his mouth on her breasts. Scoring his shoulders. Ripping at his hair. Taking pleasure in wounding, in pain. _I think...it’s too late for that._ “Well, but...this whole situation is already pretty warped, isn’t it?”

He grimaced. “That came out badly. What I meant to say was...don’t despise your body’s natural reactions. He knows how to use pleasure as a weapon. There’s no shame in responding to that. It’s what meant to happen when certain...stimuli are invoked. Don’t be ashamed. And...try not to let him taint future relations for you.” Saber’s fingers tangled together. “I know that might be easier said than done. I hate that I have to say this to you.”

Something about the way his voice sounded in the dark... “Saber.” She couldn’t frame the question. “Ah...you sound like-I mean-I’m sorry-” 

“That I know of what I speak?” he finished quietly. “Yes. This isn’t the first time my body has been used against my will.”

 _Morgan_ , she realized, and felt a sharp surge of rage. 

_Now he’s doing it all over again, but for me instead. He’s done so much for me and I can’t really do anything to make up for it in return. If only...if only I could..._

_I like you too,_ the Emperor whispered in her ear.

_...take his place..._

Saber exhaled, stared into the distance. “I don’t know if this will help you, but I am trying to frame this as simply another arranged marriage.” His smile was crooked and more than a little bitter. “I also had little choice when and who I wed and the marriage was hardly a happy one. Yet, I survived. Though Gwenhwyfar was scarcely on the same level as Lucius Tiberius.” His laugh was dry and hard.

“You didn’t want to marry her?”

“I was seventeen. King for barely two years at that point. Vortigern had been defeated but there were scores of others waiting to take his place. To take my head. I badly needed allies. Her father was king of a neighboring country, constantly at war with two of his neighbors; Britain, in those days, was a patchwork of tiny kingdoms, some peaceful, some squabbling, all divided. He offered me her hand in marriage in exchange for alliance and my sword arm. My supporters urged me to accept: she was said to beautiful and young as I was, the best way to shore up my position would be to take a wife, breed heirs. So, I agreed.” 

Even in the dim light, she could see how rigid his profile was. “Unfortunately, what no one bothered to inform me was that Gwenhwyfar was deeply in love with a young knight of her father’s retinue. No, he wasn’t Lancelot. The proposed marriage was as much to get her away from him as it was to win my cooperation. Gwenhwyfar was...” He sighed. “Rightfully seething at being torn away from her beloved and forced to match with me instead. I don’t think she said two words to me on the day of our wedding and it was probably a week before I heard a complete sentence from her lips. Even after the situation was made clear to me, I harbored hopes that she would forget. That she would fall in love with me instead.” 

That bitter smile again. “I suppose you could call me romantic. Today I would call myself foolish.”

“Don’t!” Her voice snapped out, angrier than she’d intended. “You wanted your wife to love you. That’s not foolish, it’s completely reasonable. In fact-” She stopped, realizing how that sentence was going to end. _Gwenhwyfar was the fool for not loving someone like you._

Saber’s hands lifted then dropped, a gesture of resignation, of defeat. “Sometimes I wonder,” he said, and Ayaka’s heart dropped at the bleak misery in his voice, “what I have done, what sin I have committed, that I am besieged by those who cry _love_ to me but wreck evil in the name of that love. Whilst those whom I have loved did not return it. Or.” His voice dropped, became nearly inaudible. “Or could not-” 

His grief rushed down on her like a flood, washing away everything in her mind but an overwhelming urge to comfort him. Before she knew it she was hugging Saber, her arms tight around him. “Don’t,” Ayaka said into his ear. He was slighter than Lucius Tiberius but not by much. She could smell sweat, the faintest hint of blood, and under that a clean, soft scent. Like Garden, like fresh green leaves. “Don’t ever think that you’ve done something wrong. You’ve done nothing wrong, Arthur. You never have. You’re wonderful, anyone with half a brain would fall in love with you, I love you-oh god.” She jerked away from him, curled up, head on her knees. Misery leapt through her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Silence.

“I’m not Manaka,” she whispered. “I would never...I mean, I don’t expect you to love me back. You’re King Arthur and I’m....I’m _me_. We just met. You’re going to leave at the end of the Grail War and we’ll never see each other again. I-” Tears streaked down her face. “I’m such a fool...”

Saber’s lips touched the nape of her neck. 

Gently, he turned her, pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Ayaka,” he said against her skin, his voice thick. “Don’t you know who you are? You are my Lady, the one I would give my life to protect. I broke the hand of Death itself to come back to you. You, the one who gave me my purpose, the one who set my feet onto the true path.” His mouth found hers, his kiss dry and clumsy and so full of love she wanted to die. “God help me. If you also count your love foolish, then let us be fools together.”

Arthur’s skin was softer than silk, parched and hot under her lips, as she kissed his face, his neck, whatever part of him she could reach and claim. She licked behind his ear and he made a quiet sound of pleasure that sent the heat rushing back between her legs. Her head felt burnt and hazy, the world motionless, as if time itself had thickened like honey. Saber trailed kisses over the side of her face, the edge of her throat. His lips found the mark Rider had left, touched it so tenderly she moaned. Ayaka’s fingers gripped his shoulders, tried to pull him even closer, but every bit of space between was long lost. 

His tongue gently, awkwardly stroked against hers as his hands caressed her back. She was losing track of where she ended and Arthur began, but that was fine, that was right. Her fingers tangled his hair, smoothed over his cheek. That warm wetness was beginning to gather between her legs again. She rubbed tentatively against his thigh, seeking that fire. Rough cloth, bare skin. Ayaka shuddered as bright pleasure lanced through her body. Moved up towards his lap, heard him groan. Her teeth touched the edge of his lips, feather-light. She wanted...she wanted to mark him. Wanted to share the same space as him forever, wanted to feel him deep inside her and never, never let him go...

She pulled away with a gasp. “Arthur,” she whispered, “we have to stop. Otherwise...” _Otherwise I’m going to rip off your pants, climb on top of you, and the Sword Emperor is going to be very, very upset._

He looked as flushed and shaken as she felt. “I know,” he whispered back. “Our time isn’t our own. I know.” Blue had overtaken the gold in the sky, and the light was almost gone. However, his grip didn’t loosen. “Ayaka. Earlier, while you slept, the Sword Emperor came to me.” His eyes were dark, more pupil than iris. “I’m sure you can guess what happened.”

She closed her eyes. Leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m guessing it was...the same thing that happened while you were sleeping and he was with me.”

Arthur hugged her tightly. “The one thing I can say for him,” he said, his voice taut, “is that his love, whatever else it may be, is sincere. And that he, unlike others, wishes to protect instead of kill you. However...”

“...that’s its own problem,” she finished. “You know, right? He’s not going to let me go. Just like before, it’s a ‘yes’ that can’t be anything else.”

Saber exhaled hard, an unhappy sound. “I understand him now, what drives this mania to possess. When he was young, two people very dear to him were most cruelly ripped away. Unfortunately, he took exactly the wrong lesson from his experiences.” His hand, dry and calloused, took hold of hers, squeezed it gently. “You are both the bait in a trap and someone precious that he doesn’t want to give up.”

_I love Pendragon. But, I also like you._

“Lucky me,” Ayaka muttered. 

Saber squeezed her hand again. “He knows that if you were made part of his ‘coalition’, I would never be able to stay away. No matter how, I would be compelled to save you. But, even without you, he would never cease pursuing me either. For all I know, he’s chasing me throughout the Throne of Heroes as we speak. If I am even in the Throne of Heroes.” His laugh was sudden and harsh.

“What? What do you mean?” Ayaka’s heart contracted, a quick, painful throb. “How could you not be in the Throne of Heroes? Obviously my sister managed to summon you, so-” 

“Avalon,” he replied simply. “I am supposed to go to Avalon upon death. The far side of the world, where the fairies live and humans cannot go. I don’t believe I was summoned from there, as the Sword Emperor was right when he said I am not entirely dead.” His voice became quiet. “When I “returned” from the last Grail War, I went not to Avalon or the Throne, but found myself back on the hill near Camlann, lying in a pool of my own blood. Somehow, I was summoned before my death. Why? How? Perhaps your sister’s power and her twisted love was enough of a pull that time. I don’t know. _You_ were the reason I returned _this_ time. But, it may be that once I truly die, I will not be able to return to this world.” Saber’s fingers tightened in hers. “Beyond the reach of mages and beyond the reach of the Throne. This fancy Lucius Tiberius holds, of being summoned together into another Grail War, may be nothing more than foxfire. An eternal dream, never to be fulfilled.”

Her heart felt as if it was filled with lead, her bones blocks of ice. “Try convincing him of that,” she said hoarsely, her voice little more than a croak. “If you’re right, then I’ll be trapped with him, and...and... you...” _You’ll be gone. Completely. Forever._

“Ayaka.” His kiss was surprisingly fierce and Ayaka felt it all the way down her spine. “Do you really think I would leave you to the tender mercies of the Sword Emperor? Even if Avalon be inescapable, I _would_ find a way. Nothing can keep me from you. Neither the fae, nor the World, nor the Sword Emperor.” Arthur sighed, warm breath gently moving over her lips. “Unfortunately, that is exactly what he’s counting on.”

An idea was beginning to unfold in her mind, delicate and insubstantial. “Arthur. Would it be possible, do you think...that after I die...instead of Rider, I could go with you to Avalon? Would that...satisfy him...?”

The room was so dark now she could only see his outline, limned with pale blue light. “I...I don’t know.” His voice sounded both surprised and thoughtful. “I know that living humans cannot go there, for the magic that infuses the land is toxic to human life. But, a human soul...?” He fell silent, then whispered: “I am not completely human, you know. The impression I was given was that upon death I would be taken bodily to Avalon’s paradise, there to be given new life and live on in a deathless eternity. But,” his lips brushed hers, “without others, ‘twill be a lonely one.”

“Take me then, if you can.” She raised their joined hands, placed them against her heart. The beat of her blood doubled, resounded. “Even if it’s against some unknown rule, who gave _them_ -whoever they are-the right to decide you’d be isolated for eternity? I’ll pledge myself to you. Offer _you_ my soul to take. I’m just as much yours as his. _More_ yours than his. If we’re both marrying him, then we’re also marrying each other.”

Arthur looked down at their clasped hands. “Marrying each other?” He sounded slightly amazed. “Yes. Yes, I suppose that’s true.” 

Joy was singing through her, high and clear. “Then, let’s say our vows right now. We don’t need him for that.”

“I don’t know how marriages are conducted in this era, in this country.” Saber’s voice was strangely young and bashful. “I only know the vows I myself took so long ago. Is that-would you mind?”

“Your vows will be fine. My mother was British, you know, and I wasn’t raised in any religious tradition, because most mages aren’t. I’ll copy you.”

“Very well then.” To her surprise, he knelt before her, pressed his lips against her hands, then took them again in his own. “I, Arthur Pendragon, take thee, Ayaka Sajyou, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in fairness, in foulness, in sickness and health, til death us do part, if the Lord will it ordain, and therefore I do pledge thee my troth.”

She slid off the bench to join him, released one hand to touch his face. Arthur’s cheek was as warm as the sun under her fingers. “I, Ayaka Sajyou, take thee, Arthur Pendragon, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in fairness, in foulness, in sickness and health, in death hopefully never to part.” Even in the dim light she could see him raise an eyebrow. “Therefore, I do pledge thee my troth.”

Arthur stroked the hand that lay against his cheek. Took it gently, pressed his lips to her ring finger. “No ring have I, so a kiss alone will have to do.” Solemnly, she bowed over his hand in turn, sealed her vows with a kiss of her own. As she lifted her head, Arthur’s mouth met hers. 

Love sent Ayaka’s head swaying, her blood boiling. She moaned against his mouth, took hold of Arthur- _her husband’s_ -shoulders, began to pull him down, needing him like water, like breath-

Someone rapped softly on the door.

They flew apart like startled birds, each to a separate corner of the room. Ayaka’s heart pounded madly, sweat drenching her. _No, no, damn it, we haven’t bathed yet, we’re stupid with love, he’s going to see it, our time is up-_

“Yes?” Arthur said. She could barely see him standing between her and the door, one hand raised slightly. “What is it?” His voice was regally calm, empty of feeling.

“Your Highness, His Majesty wishes to tell you and the Lady Ayaka that his preparations are taking longer than expected,” a man said, voice muffled by wood. “Please do not rush on his behalf.”

Relief nearly broke her into tiny shards. She rose, shaking, to her feet as Saber thanked the man. _That was close. Too close. We...can’t linger here much longer. Lucius Tiberius is waiting. To claim his long-denied love. As wonderful as this was, we knew it couldn’t last._ She watched as Saber turned, came slowly back towards her, and the last pieces of the idea she’d had earlier fell into place in her mind. “Arthur.”

“Yes?” He stopped just before her, a grey shape in the dark. 

She closed her eyes. Arthur’s breath in her ear. The way Rider’s body had jerked when her teeth closed on his throat. His hands and mouth, greedy and possessive, on her husband. How the Emperor had moaned when she kissed him back.

_I like you too._

Ayaka went past him, towards the tub, trembling a little as she walked. This would be easier if she wasn’t facing him. “I don’t want the first time you...see me to be when Lucius Tiberius undresses me,” she said over her shoulder as her fingers fumbled with her blouse. The last button opened and she slid it off her shoulders, dropped it on the floor. There was just enough light from the windows by the tub to touch her skin with silver. The zipper on her skirt caught and she had to yank it twice before it slid down. Her hands were shaking badly now. She kicked the skirt aside and turned back to face him, clenching her hands together to keep from trying to cover herself. “I love you. I hate that I have to share you with him. That you have to share me with him. I know you want to protect me, no matter what. But, if you’re going to be fighting against ten other Servants and my sister, you can’t have any distractions. So, let me do something about that.”

“Ayaka?”

She climbed over the edge of the tub. The water was still pleasantly hot, probably kept that way by magic. She sank down into it, letting the heat and scent soothe her shivering body. “I know you’re going to hate me saying this, but please leave Lucius Tiberius to me.”

“What?” He sounded like someone had punched him in the stomach. She could see him pulling at his own clothes, obviously meaning to join her. Her heart began to race. “Ayaka, are you saying what I think you are?”

Silently, she nodded. There was a bottle of shampoo to her left; she reached for it, squeezed out a handful. Floral, expensive. Ayaka bent her head so she wouldn’t have to see Arthur’s face, began to work the shampoo into her hair.

Water rocked against her as he climbed into the tub and her face instantly went crimson. “Let me.” His voice was soft and a little sad. Without waiting for an answer, he slid his hands into her hair, lifted it away from her neck, massaged her scalp. Her body was boiling, her tongue numb as her husband quietly shampooed her hair.

The silence stretched on until she couldn’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you going to say something? I just told you I’m going to seduce Lucius Tiberius so he’ll want me more than he’ll want you. Not, given the way he was with me, that it’s going to be a hard job-” She stopped. The last thing she wanted to tell him was how the Emperor had moaned when she touched him, when she kissed him, when she bit him. 

Power. It was a kind of power, wasn’t it? The only one she could wield.

“No,” Arthur agreed, smoothing out her tangled hair. “Tilt your head back please, so I can rinse.” Warm water flowed over her shoulders, down her back. “He’s certainly...enthusiastic in his desires, there’s no doubt about that.” His fingers combed through her hair. More water came down. “But, Ayaka, you know he won’t give me up. You won’t be able to distract him completely. And,” his voice softened even more, “this won’t keep me from worrying.”

She stared out the window. The moon was rising, white and sharp in the night sky. “I know. But, if you can’t bring me to Avalon...if I end up with him in the Throne...well, it’s better that I get him to like me as much as possible, isn’t it?”

Arthur’s arms came around her, sudden and tight. Was he shaking or was it her? “You won’t be alone with him,” he whispered. “If there’s truly no way to forestall him, than I’ll swear myself to him too.”

“ _No._ ” Ayaka twisted around to face him, put both hands on his shoulders. “I don’t want that-argh. _Fuck._ Sorry. I didn’t mean to swear.” She kissed his cheek, his mouth, his wet eyes. “We can’t keep doing this, keep trying to sacrifice ourselves for the other. There has to be something we can do so we don’t end up completely screwed.”

“Literally and figuratively,” he agreed. There was a tiny breath of laughter in his voice and she felt the ache in her heart ease ever-so-slightly. “But truly, I don’t see what our options are. He will not take no for an answer, will pursue us no matter what. Even if I can take you with me to Avalon, it won’t stop him, you realize. He’ll simply look for a way inside. Rules won’t stop him. I also doubt he’ll give up his claim for a plan that has no real guarantee of success. He wants you safely eternal and right now, his proposal is the only certain way to achieve that.”

She leaned back against Saber’s chest, let his arms come up around her shoulders. There was still quite a bit of distance between the rest of their bodies, which was a very good thing. “In other words, we’re stuck with him. All the more reason to keep him in a good mood, then.” Bitterness seeped into her blood, fed on her breath. 

Arthur kissed the top of her head. “Don’t forget that we are together,” he said quietly. “That much grace has been granted to us, at least.”

“Yes.” A poor sort of grace, but she wouldn’t discard that for the Grail itself. 

 

She washed Arthur’s hair despite his protests, stroking his silky hair, mapping his bones with her fingers. If her parting kiss was bitter, he showed no sign of it. _I love you, love you, love you,_ she thought as she walked behind the servant sent to guide her. _So please, let me do what I can to protect you._

Two women waited inside the small dressing room she had been shown to. They wore simple green smocks and bowed as soon as she looked at them. “If it please you, my lady,” the taller one said, “we have been sent to help you dress.” She gestured at the racks of clothing, at the jewelry that glittered in dozens of trays, at the more than fifty pairs of shoes neatly lined up on the floor. The room itself was richly decorated, hung with gold-glinting brocade, packed with shining ornaments, chairs of velvet and rare wood. _Is this the kind of thing I’m going to be living with from now on?_

An enormous mosaic decorated one wall, crafted from what she was damn near certain was marble and precious stones. The scene was amazingly lifetime, a group of people feasting, reveling, laughing. Fruit spilled across the table like a handful of carelessly tossed jewels, apples of garnet, pears of jade, grapes like amethysts, ruby pomegranates.

Pomegranates...

A door opened in her mind. A little quiver of exaltation went through her. _I think...I might have an idea..._

“My lady?” 

The woman’s blandly polite voice snapped her back. “Sorry,” she muttered and ducked her head, not wanting to give anything away.

Dress after dress hung on the racks. Some were simple, some elaborate. All probably cost more money than she saw in a month from her inheritance. She bit her lip. _He put all this together in less than a day?_

Ayaka walked up and down the rows, searching. White, no way. Gold pulled all the color out of her face. Blue looked good on her, but didn’t exactly fit what she had in mind. Neither did pink. Pink would probably get her laughed at.

Green...had been her sister’s color.

She turned, slowly. A bright flash of color at the far end of the room caught her eye. Ayaka took the dress down from its hanger, looked at it in silence. Yes, this one would...work just fine.

“Please help me into my wedding dress,” she said and was amazed at how hard her voice could sound.

 

Saber looked over the masses of clothing with a sigh. There was more here than he had probably owned in his entire life, and all for a single occasion that hinged on him being _out_ of his clothing as soon as possible. Roman arrogance, Roman luxury, Roman decadence. Behind him, two of the Sword Emperor’s men waited deferentially for him to make a choice.

If his mood were anything to go by, he should choose the suits of deepest black, cover himself in darkness from head to toe. _But that was how Manaka chose to dress me. Perhaps I should have realized from the start that it was a sign._ His mouth twisted. He would not taint things further by even hinting at his former Master’s presence. _And I am dressing as much for Ayaka as I am for the Sword Emperor. At least I have that boon, no matter slight a thing it is. She will not if she intends on this plan._ Saber’s eyes scanned the racks. Modern men had clothing in abundance, unlike his age, but the formal wear was all invariably dark and plain. Nothing like the lively colors, the jewels, the beading, the embroideries, the sashes and ribbons reserved for joyous occasions in his time. _Though this hardly counts as a joyous occasion...Enough. Think of Ayaka. What would she like best?_

Finally, he chose, deep blue under black. Somber and grave without being funereal. Ayaka preferred him in red but that was too close to Imperial colors. Besides, she liked him in blue. He waved away the attendants when they stepped forward to help him dress. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “but I am accustomed to dressing myself.” It was not entirely true, but he was not in the mood for strange hands upon him. 

After he finished dressing, one of the men conducted him to a small antechamber, lavishly furnished with rich fabrics, golden ornaments, fine wooden furniture. “If you please, Your Highness. His Majesty requests that you wait for him here.”

Alone, he did his best to stand still, but as the minutes dragged on, he began to pace. Where was Ayaka? Being prepared, as he had been? Would the Emperor go to her first? Even if Ayaka was bent on this plan of seduction, the thought of her alone with him filled his heart with ice. _Oh Lord, if thou should see fit to grant thy servant a single request, let it be thus: let this evening go gently for her, let her not be harmed, let the Emperor’s lusts besmirch her not. Amen._

The door opened.

Ayaka sailed in, crimson silk billowing around her. 

Arthur’s mouth fell open.

Ayaka’s short hair had been upswept and arranged in soft curls. Deep crimson roses clustered at the crown of her head, saturating the air with their tempting fragrance. Her arms and back were bare, her...breasts...nearly so, while a dozen women from his court could have been outfitted in the material from her skirt alone. Her Master’s Degree lay fully exposed, looking like a splash of black ink against that white skin. Roses worked in rubies encircled her neck, formed the impossibly thin straps that kept her bodice up. More rubies glittered from the folds of her dress, draped her arms. Her lips had been lightly rouged, her eyes darkened with paint.

She stopped before him, turned slowly. Her skin gleamed under the lights. The memory of touching her, kissing her, sprang into his mind, all unbidden. Heat dried his mouth. “What do you think?” Her voice was tense but there was a slight undertone of satisfaction in her words. “Suitable for an Imperial wedding?”

It took him several breaths before he could scrape words together. “I think you look...” _Like Judith on her way to Holofernes. Beautiful. Frightening._

_Arousing._

“Breathtaking.” Oh, his tongue, so thick and clumsy. “He’ll....he’ll be very pleased, I am certain.” Never in his life, never even in his dreams would he have conceived of a woman standing before him dressed like this, hoping to seduce another man, much less a woman he loved and was shortly to officially wed. To bed. He swallowed. Ayaka’s skin, soft under his lips. Laying them over the mark the Sword Emperor had left on her throat, love surpassing lust. Awkward but fervent kisses. Ayaka’s body against his, warm and loving. Beautiful. 

Desirable.

Saber shut his eyes. Curling heat, another ember flaring back to life. Something within him pulsed in warning. Lust was the Emperor’s domain, love was his. Then why...?

 _Why? Why should I not?_ A new voice, soft but fierce. _I was the first to behold her. I made an offering of my life to her, as she offered hers up to me. My lady, my love. My lover. Yes. Mine. Ayaka is mine. My wife, my queen, mine as much as the Emperor’s._

Wanting. Needing. Taking. A deep shiver ran through Arthur’s body. _This is...not like me. From where do these thoughts spring? Have I too become infected by the Emperor’s madness?_

However...as much as he wished to deny it...

There was truth in that voice.

“Ayaka,” he whispered and she looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Had his voice sounded odd? No, her face was still open, still trusting. Ever so gently, he took of her shoulders. Felt her silken skin under his fingertips. Her eyes-her beautiful eyes-held his calmly. Carefully, lovingly, he brought her mouth to his.

She sighed and leaned against him as much as her gown permitted, her hands over his heart. The paint on her lips tasted strange, waxen, but he ignored it and deepened the kiss. Her tongue brushed his, stroking gently. Sweetness drugged him. A pinch of desire, a tickle of lust. Yes. His wife. They’d made their vows to each other, independent of the Sword Emperor, and no matter what he did, or could do-

Footsteps in the hall. 

Reluctantly, they pulled apart. Ayaka’s cheeks were now nearly a deep a red as her gown and his own felt scarcely cooler. A tiny bit of rouge smudged the corner of her mouth. He fixed it with his thumb as she smiled up at him and flicked some of his hair out of his eyes. 

The door opened and the Sword Emperor stepped in, his insolent grin curving his lips. A gold band circled his brow. He’d discarded his black coat for a red one, more tightly fitted and elaborate than his usual attire. Draped over it was a modified _pallium_ heavily embroidered with goldwork and gems, a strange combination that the Emperor somehow managed to pull off.

Slowly, Ayaka turned to face him, a rose in full bloom.

Rider stopped dead, his lips parting. His cheeks flushed darkly, his mouth working silently as he gaped at her and Saber felt a strange beat of satisfaction. Then Rider’s grin returned, became wide and wicked.

“My Ayaka is on the warpath,” he murmured. “Collar and leash indeed! Are you _trying_ to kill me, lovely?”

Ayaka answered with a raise of her chin. She took her skirts in hand and went to him, rustling defiantly all the way.

The Emperor’s smile eased, became almost tender as she drew near to him. “You’re wearing Imperial red.” Lucius Tiberius’s voice was soft and low. “Is this my answer?” Ayaka stared up at him, her mouth hard. Slowly, she lifted her hands, cupped the Sword Emperor’s face between them. Stroked her thumb over his cheekbone. The flush in Rider’s cheeks deepened, become even more brilliant. Ever so slightly, he leaned into Ayaka’s touch.

Arthur’s teeth clenched as anger bit into him. _Stop._ He forced his jaw to relax, his muscles to loosen. _This won’t help anything. Remember, Ayaka has to watch you with him as well. Endure, as you always have. Endure and accept that Lucius Tiberius is now irrevocably part of our lives._

The new voice added, softly: _Yes. So let us do as Ayaka planned, and wind the web about him, so tightly that he can stir neither hand nor foot against us._

Ayaka remained silent as her fingers continued to stroke the Emperor’s face. “We’re going to talk more first,” she finally said. Her voice was quiet and wary.

Rider blinked at her. “Sure,” he said after a pause. If Saber didn’t know better, he’d say Lucius Tiberius looked a little...dazed. Well, he could hardly blame the man. “We can talk all you’d like while we eat.”

“Eat?” Saber said sharply. “Why? Neither of us require food.”

Ayaka’s eyes narrowed. Her hands dropped back to her sides, tensed as if she wanted to clench them. “I had the chicken, remember? I’m not hungry.”

The Emperor shot them a laughing glance, his eyes hectically bright. “The chicken was several hours ago, lovely. And of course we’re going to feast! It wouldn’t be a proper Roman celebration without a banquet.” He took Ayaka’s hand, raised to his lips, then slipped his arm into hers. “My beautiful Ayaka,” he murmured. “How I do love that dress, and how I also can’t wait to get you out of it.” His other hand he held out to Saber. 

“Even so, dinner first,” he said, his eyes fixed on Saber, “and then dessert.”

Slowly, Arthur came forward, took the Emperor’s outstretched hand. His palm burned like hot iron. Rider twined their fingers together, looked first at him, then at Ayaka. His violet eyes were shining with anticipation. With lust. With joy.

“Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please continue to blame the knk event and the olympics. well, one is over at least.
> 
> i think we can all agree it was a good idea to cut this chapter in half, can't we.
> 
> ayaka's dress is saber alter's dress from her final ascension art, but in red and with a full length ballgown skirt.
> 
> i had no idea until i was writing this how repressed arthur is. of course he probably had a lousy sex life, but, damn, son. on the other hand, my, my, is that the first faint stirrings of saber alter we see?
> 
> btw, i'd like to give a shout-out to the person from the filthy fate confessions tumblr who came up with the term "arthursty" because the thirst is true and it is real.
> 
> next time...


	11. Chapter 11

A feast spread before his eyes. Food, of every type and description, lay upon plates of ivory, gold and crimson cloths underneath. Flowers crowded every inch of the small space that had been left to them. The scent of good things, of richness, was overpowering, intoxicating.

It was all so uncomfortably similar to the enormous meals Manaka had used to prepare for him. 

Ayaka’s hand had slipped into his as soon as the Emperor had released them. Arthur held it tightly, glad of the contact. Her face was drawn and pinched, as if she’d been suffering a long illness. Blue shadows were beginning to show through the paint under her eyes. _No doubt out of anxiety for what lies ahead_ , he thought, and stroked her palm with his thumb reassuringly. 

_I must give her what comfort I can, before I become another of her burdens._ A chill went through his body. He hoped fervently that she would not notice. _Time enough for her to be anguished, time enough for me to break her heart. I'm so sorry, Ayaka._

The Emperor seated them across from each other, Ayaka to his right, Arthur to his left. “I asked the servants to leave so we could have our privacy. You don’t mind serving yourselves, right?” He was pouring wine, purple as violets, into a crystal goblet of surpassing beauty. Smiling, he filled their glasses-“Don’t worry Ayaka, this is very weak. I don’t want muddled heads tonight”-then reached for the beef. Bloody rare, the centerpiece of the table. He took a goodly amount for his own plate, then gestured to them. “Arthur? Ayaka?”

He shook his head. “Not hungry,” he said again, but his surprise, Ayaka accepted. “A few slices only, please.”

“Eat as much or as little as you like,” Rider said, his voice sweet and easy. “I just don’t want you passing out mid-relations from lack of food.”

Even with the beef on her plate, Ayaka’s eyes were scanning the table, as if in pursuit of something. Here and there she sampled things. Somehow, her search seemed to demand a lot of bending over, her body angled towards them, breasts straining against the thin silk of her gown. Rider stopped eating and watched her with glittering eyes while sweat began to collect at the back of his neck. Warmth between his legs. He knew that Ayaka’s attempted seduction of Lucius Tiberius would be painful, but he hadn’t quite anticipated how much of that pain would be physical. 

In the end, she took some vegetables, part of a rice dish, bread studded with garlic and rosemary, a small bowl of pomegranate seeds. That seemed to content her and she settled down to eat. Her eyes widened at the first taste of the meat. “Oh!”

Rider grinned lazily at her. “You like it? You approve? You can have that every day if you want.”

Instead of answering him, she stood and began to share some of her meat with him. “Truly, Ayaka, I’m not hungry-” 

“Eat it, it’s good. Maybe you could figure out how they make it,” she said firmly. In a lower tone, she added: “Let’s take what enjoyment we can, while we can.”

Arthur inclined his head in acquiescence and picked up his fork. 

It was good. Ignoring Rider’s smirking face, he finished the beef and took more, tried a few of the other dishes as well. They’d never had any so good at Camelot and while he was modestly proud of his own skills in the kitchen, these dishes were on a level far beyond him. _She is right, I should try and make what good I can out of this_ , and helped himself to fish.

“Rider,” Ayaka said suddenly, after a long space of quiet.

He smiled at her. “Yes, lovely?”

“The Throne of Heroes lies beyond time and space. Therefore...if I had accepted your offer, shouldn’t you know it? Wouldn’t I be here already with your “coalition”?”

The Sword Emperor shrugged, took a bite of meat. “Who knows? The Grail only gives you the knowledge you need for the era you’re summoned in. Maybe it decided I didn’t need to know that. Maybe I deliberately forgot so I could have the fun of a surprise. I didn’t know Pendragon was here going in, did I? That’s exactly the kind of knowledge I would have appreciated...or maybe I chose to lose that so I could experience the joy of seeing him again unfiltered.” He forked up another piece of meat, chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe you chose to stay behind so you wouldn’t give the game away. Maybe you won’t be in the Throne until I get a definite answer. “Outside of time and space” is all well and good, but everything has to start somewhere.”

Ayaka nodded and resumed eating.

The room stayed quiet, save for the light scrape of knife and fork, the soft clatter of dishes as Rider and Ayaka helped themselves to more food and drink. He sat and watched them, his own meal long finished. The Sword Emperor ate with a steady, unhurried grace, his eyes half-closed, a small private smile on his lips. Ayaka ate more slowly, slicing her meat into tiny, delicate shreds before eating it. The dish of pomegranate seeds sat at her elbow, untouched.

Ayaka finished the last of her meat, pressed a napkin to her lips. Folded her hands in her lap. “Rider,” she said quietly.

The Emperor glanced at her, took a long drink of his wine. “You really should start using my name,” he said affably. He set the glass down, slowly stroked a finger around the rim. “It’s not a difficult one. Lu-key-us Tie-be-ri-us.”

Her face was pure white, save for two brilliant patches of color high on her cheeks. “Before I give you my yes that isn’t really a yes, I want to ask you a few things.”

Rider’s hand stilled. “I never said you couldn’t say no,” he said softly, his eyes watchful and dark. “I just don’t recommend it.”

Her cheeks burned more fiercely. “In other words-a “yes” that isn’t really a “yes”.”

The Emperor’s smile was sardonic. “If that’s the way you chose to frame it, fine. Personally, I see it as...hmm... _strong_ encouragement for you to do the right thing. For your own good, of course.”

A muscle twitched in Ayaka’s cheek. “Look, we can argue semantics later, okay? Can we please get back to business?” Her next words were the last ones he would have ever expected. “Where’s your Master? Who is your Master? Do they know that you’re planning this marriage? That you’re making an alliance with another Master and her Servant?” 

“My Master?” Rider said with a raised eyebrow. His smile widened into a grin. “A splendid hag. Wife to someone high up in your government, I believe. She won’t care. First thing she told me when she summoned me was that I could do as I pleased, long as I won the Grail and didn’t make _too_ much of a riot. Afraid I’d get into the papers.” He drank off his wine, refilled his cup. “A master exactly to my tastes.”

Ayaka nodded, slowly. “I see.” She took a deep breath, then reached out and took Lucius Tiberius’s right hand in hers. His expression was half amused, half wary. “Sword Emperor. Lucius Tiberius. I have a few requests I would make of you. Um. You could think of them as wedding gifts. If you agree, my ‘yes’-” her voice changed, became softer, tenser “-will truly become a ‘yes’.”

His eyes danced with merriment. “Intriguing! Of course, lovely. Ask away.”

“My first: I ask that for the reminder of this war you treat me as your acting Master.” She took up a pomegranate seed from the bowl, placed it in the Emperor’s palm. “That you become my sword, fighting alongside Saber. That you let me direct your battles, let me give the orders.”

The Emperor looked down at the seed, looked back at Ayaka. His mouth began to curl. “My darling, I’ll happily give you my sword as often as you want it,” he purred. “Anything else you ask for, I’ll provide. If you wanted the moon, I’d tear it from the sky to hand it to you. But to have a woman, untried in battle, give _me_ orders? Lovely, you’re overstepping yourself.”

Every inch of Ayaka’s skin flushed as red as her dress. “I’m not talking about when you’re actually fighting, Servant to Servant. I know I don’t have anywhere near the combat experience to advise you, or Saber. There’s something else.” She stopped, bit her lip. “Saber mentioned it earlier but I didn’t realize the full ramifications until I thought it over. While I was dressing.” The color faded slowly from her skin, leaving her bone-pale; the hand holding the Emperor’s began to tremble. 

Silence.

A feeling of disquiet rustled through him. “What did you realize, Ayaka?” he prompted gently. Her face bore traces of that lost, dreamy look she had worn when he had told her he suspected that Manaka yet lived...

She looked at him and then he knew, knew the reason behind her pallor and tension when they had entered this room to dine.

“That we’re not fighting in a normal Grail war anymore. In fact, we really can’t fight much at all. Until we figure out how to stop Manaka, you two shouldn’t engage in any battles unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. Not against the old Servants and not against the new. We can’t run the risk of either of you being killed. But, we also can’t let any more of the surviving Servants die. It’s a huge problem.” Her voice was soft, flat, calm. “If you’re right, Arthur, and my sister’s controlling the dead Servants from the last War through the Grail, then every Servant killed-” 

“-becomes another weapon for her. Becomes further fuel for her mad plans. Yes,” he finished quietly. “It's obvious when you think about it, though I wasn't going to say anything until all this was..concluded. You already had enough to disturb you.” He glanced at the Sword Emperor, saw narrowed eyes, a clenched jaw. His heart sank. 

Deep crimson was seeping slowly into Rider’s skin. “Are you two seriously telling me that I’m not allowed to fight? I, the Sword Emperor?” 

“Not unless you or Saber are attacked. Even then, you won’t be able to fight at full strength, unless it’s one of my sister’s Servants. You can’t, under any circumstances, kill the present Servants. I know it’ll be hard for you.” Ayaka’s voice was very quiet. “I saw your some of your past, remember? I know how much you love battle. How much you enjoyed beating strength into the ground.” 

Arthur started. _What? How?_

“But,” she continued, “like it or not, you’re going to have hold back. If I tell you to withdraw, I want you to withdraw. Without defiance, without complaint.” 

A look of incredulous fury was cresting over the Emperor’s face. _I knew he would not take this well. Above all else, he lusted for the fight. He was the man who, single-handed, sent Rome’s beloved Coliseum into a decline because with him as the opponent, no other could win. The idea of combat against other “beasts” in this Grail War must have thrilled him to his core. If he had not been distracted with us, it’s quite likely one or more Servants would have already been slain by his hand._ He wiped his sweating palms against his trousers. _Strange to think that our suffering may indeed hold a higher purpose._

“Lucius Tiberius, we are no longer fighting to kill, but to spare. To save. An exponentially harder battle. I understand that’s almost an alien concept to you,” Arthur said, his voice as even as his agitation would allow. “You swore to protect Ayaka. Your other actions aside, you have always prided yourself on being a man of your word.” Rider’s maddened gaze bored into him. “This is the cost of upholding your vow. You, who glory in fighting, you, who crave battle, must now stay your hand and use your Florent to guard instead of kill. You _must_ cooperate, for the sake of the world.”

The Emperor’s expression was slowly shifting, becoming cold and amused. “Are you saying you don’t think me strong enough to defeat all that opposes us? You really think the two of us, with my Florent, my resources and your Excalibur, can’t handle anything this witch can throw at us? We two, the Kings of Beasts?”

For the first time in his life, Saber want to inflict pain on another being. “ _Yes._ I fought all of the previous Servants. You didn’t. The former Rider alone was powerful enough that he required three Servants to defeat. Archer lost his life in doing so and I was forced to unleash Excalibur against him, lest he burn this city to the ground. Who knows how Manaka has warped them in the interim? You expound on my strength, yet you know how badly the previous Caster managed to wound me. He was one of the weaker Servants, yet today, he very well could have cost me my life. If you miscalculate and die, you will become a thing of darkness, twisted and suborned, dancing at Manaka’s beck and call.” 

He looked directly into Rider’s eyes, at the fire smouldering behind those deep violet irises. “Manaka’s cruelty was unbounded. She will learn of your love. Then, she will use you to kill Ayaka. Use you to deliver me into her hands, to be chained to her for all eternity. Is that your desire? Is that worth the fleeting pleasure of battle?”

“No mortal girl,” the Emperor said, soft and slow, “is ever going to control _me_ , not even if she kills me a thousand times. Pendragon, you forget that _I am a god._ ”

 _Blessed Christ, his arrogance. So, now is the time. I'm so sorry, my lady, my wife, but what needs be, must be._ “Think you so? I will not take that chance. If you truly love me, you will not take that chance.” Something flickered within the darkness of the Emperor’s eyes. “If you truly intend to protect Ayaka, you will not take that chance. The two of us aside, the world itself is at stake. Therefore, let me prove to you how seriously I am taking this matter.” Arthur swallowed. Shadows flickered about the edge of his vision. His breathing grew shallow, his heart pounding like a band of war-drums. “If you agree to this, _and_ to anything else Ayaka may ask, I will swear myself to you for eternity as well.”

“ _No!_ ” Ayaka sprang to her feet, her voice thick with shock. “ _No, no, no!_ Arthur, please...you can’t...” A cry as if her soul was leaving broke from her lips. Her body bent in two, hands digging into her ribs. 

Pain, bitter as death, lanced him. _I’m so very sorry, my beloved. But anything else would be merely prolonging the inevitable._

“You would do that?” the Emperor whispered. All anger had fled from his face. His eyes were wide and dazed. Arthur felt a brief, sharp pang of satisfaction: whatever else happened, his offer would deprive Lucius Tiberius of the pleasure of the chase. _That, in itself, is balm, however slight._ “You mean it? You would swear yourself to me, Arthur? Truly become mine for eternity?”

“Please.” He touched Rider’s arm, which jerked as if burned. “Give me a moment.” He knelt before Ayaka, guided her gently back into her chair. She was crying freely, tears pocking the silk of her dress. “Ayaka. Oh, Ayaka. Please forgive me,” he whispered. “I know you desired, above all else, to prevent this. But Ayaka, I can’t place myself above your safety and the world’s. I could never leave you to him. And your sacrifice would not buy my freedom.” 

Saber enfolded her shaking hands in his. Tears rained down on his skin. “My queen, my wife.” He kissed her palms, damp and very hot. “The woman who saved me. I love you. I will do anything to protect you. This strange half-life was granted me so that I may protect you. Protect you and be with you. If everything else be denied us, we will at least be together.”

Ayaka was motionless, save for the sobs racking her small frame. Then, she pulled her hands away, pushed back from him. Ash choked his blood, made his heart into a spent coal. _I should not have tried to keep this from her. I should have made my intentions clear from the start. Not given her the false hope that she could save me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. God help me, I’m so sorry._

Warm arms encircled his shoulders. Ayaka laid her body over his, pressed her cheek against his hair. His heart began to move again. “Arthur. If the only way I could be with you was in a cage at the bottom of the sea, I’d do it.” Her voice shook on each word. “I know you feel the same. So...I’m not really surprised.”

His forehead rested upon silk, upon her soft thighs. Even now, in this misery, a seed of longing began to unfurl within him. “Yes. I would never willingly leave you. My love. My life.”

“I take it,” Rider said, in a very dry, quiet voice, “that the two of you have finally reached an...understanding.” 

Ayaka’s hand curved around his head, as if that alone could shield him. He felt rather than heard the catch in her breath. “We married,” she said simply. “If we’re both marrying you, we’re also marrying each other. So, we decided it was time.”

“Is that so?” the Emperor murmured.

Saber turned. Lucius Tiberius looked not at them but at some imaginary point in the distance, something bitter and soft playing about his mouth. He rose, keeping hold of Ayaka’s hand. “Rider. Are you able to accept this?”

The Sword Emperor’s eyes moved slowly, as if waking from sleep. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice just brushed by sharpness. “I knew you two were in love. This isn’t anything new.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, but what is new is having the proof and demonstration of it before your eyes daily. Before, you could safely watch us pine, and twit us for it, content in the knowledge that we would not act on our feelings; now you must witness the constant devotion of two people deeply in love who do not share that love with you. I ask you again. Will this be a problem for you?”

Rider’s smile was sickle-thin. “Arthur, I said it before: I’ll always love you, no matter what. If my love survived you _killing me_ , it can survive you being in love with someone else. Truly, I never expected you to love me back. Just having you is enough. Honestly.” A glow brightened his eyes. “Though, now we have all of eternity to get better acquainted, don’t we? Perhaps the two of you will sweeten towards me, little by little.”

“My consent is conditional until you fully agree to Ayaka’s requests,” he reminded him quietly. Beside him, Ayaka laid a hand upon Lucius Tiberius’s once more.

The Sword Emperor sighed. “How can I refuse when you’re throwing yourself in an incentive and Ayaka’s looking at me with those beautiful eyes? Fine. I hate this, but so be it. Good thing I’ll be able to occupy myself with the two of you if I’m not allowed to fight.” His smile turned into a leer as he placed the seed on the table. “Circumstances allowing, let’s drop this. It’s our wedding night. We can talk tactics later. Next?” 

Ayaka straightened. Her clasp on his hand, and the Emperor’s, grew tighter. “You probably won’t like this one either.”

“Oh?” Rider said softly. “Tread carefully then, my darling. I’m not in as good a mood as I should be right now.”

Her eyes struck blue sparks. “Okay, I’ll start with a question instead. Lucius Tiberius.” She released Arthur’s hand to take another seed from the bowl. “Do you want a relationship, or do you want slaves?”

A look of bewilderment crossed Rider’s face. “Excuse me?”

The pomegranate seed on the tip of Ayaka’s finger glimmered like a tiny sun. “I was going to ask this anyway, but now it’s even more important,” she said, soft and stern. “My second request. I don’t know how time passes in the Throne of Heroes. I don’t know if time even exists there at all. But however we can mark a year, I ask that for half of it, Arthur and I be allowed to leave you and _be left alone_.”

_“What-”_

“To return to you immediately once our half is up,” she said and dropped the seed into his palm like a stone. “I swear. Arthur will swear.” Ayaka’s eyes held the Emperor’s blazing ones, weighed and measured him. Cast him up to himself. “You said you’d give us the world if we joined you. Well, this is the world we want. This is how you can show Arthur your love. I’ll ask you again: do you want a relationship, or do you want slaves?”

“I have slaves aplenty,” Rider said through tight lips. “The two of you will be my consorts. Ayaka Sajyou, did you think I was joking when I offered to make you my Empress?”

Ayaka was very pale and very stiff and very beautiful. “Material support is easy and costs you nothing. Emotional support is something much more. You’re forcing us into this marriage. If you really love Arthur, you’ll want him to be happy. I’m not asking this for me. I’m asking for Arthur. If it bothers you that much, let him leave for half the year and I’ll stay full time with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Saber said firmly. “ _Whither thou goest..._ Lucius Tiberius. Think of it this way. We may leave, but we must return to you no matter what. You’ll have the joy of anticipation, as well as the joy of knowing you compel our absolute obedience-in this matter, at least.”

“You make me sound like an ogre.” The Emperor fell silent, his gaze bent inward. Arthur bit his tongue against the obvious, while Ayaka glanced at him, her meaning perfectly clear even without words: _You’re right-he’s delusional._

“Fine,” Rider said suddenly and Ayaka startled. “Fine. I did say I’d give you the world, didn’t I? I should have specified which one.” His smile was rueful, his hands spread in an _it can’t helped_ gesture, but there was a glint in his eye...“I can be magnanimous. Six months a year for the rest of eternity is a small price to pay for your hearts. I agree.” 

“Thank you,” Ayaka said quietly. 

A small smile played over the Emperor’s mouth. “Anything for my Empress.”

Despite her victory, her eyes were heavy, her fingers very tight in his. “I have one final request. An easy one.” The third seed passed to Rider. “I want you to protect Garden.”

His lip quirked. “Garden? That big greenhouse behind your home? You certainly spent a lot of time there.”

“Yes. I don’t care so much about the house, but Garden is very important to me.” Her hand started to tremble. “I’m afraid Manaka might try to destroy it. Out of spite. That can’t happen.” Tears pooled in her eyes, one slipping free to wet her cheek. He went to wipe it away, only to find the Emperor’s fingers colliding with his. “My mother made Garden for me. I can’t let her work be destroyed, much less by her own daughter.” 

“Easy, lovely.” The Emperor let him take the tear, stroked her other cheek instead. “Of course I’ll protect Garden for you. My people are already watching your house; simple enough to update their orders.”

Arthur frowned. “Why are you having her house watched? Because of Manaka?”

“Mmm-hmm. Your fretting aside, I want to see this girl, the one who dared try and murder my future consort and who has the Beast of Britain running scared, before I kill her. It was her home too, right? ” Rider’s smile was fierce and pleased. “If she’s still after you both, it stands to reason she’d make her way back to familiar territory. No sign of her yet, though.”

“You don’t want to see Manaka,” Ayaka said, very low. “Trust me.”

He patted her hand. “That’s for me to decide, lovely...but enough about her. I’ve agreed to all your requests. Dowered you with wedding gifts. Now, it’s time for our vows.” He looked up at Arthur and his smirk turned caressing, possessive. “Time for you to swear yourself to me eternally, Red Dragon. _My_ dragon, at last.”

“Not quite yet, Lucius Tiberius,” he replied softly. “I have a request of my own.”

His smile soured. “Oh?”

Saber plucked a seed, held it out to the Emperor. “Before we lay with you, I want you to allow Ayaka and myself to consummate our marriage in private. Alone.”

Ayaka gasped.

One of the Emperor’s fists clenched: with an effort, he relaxed it, laid flat on the table. “You can’t avoid the three of us becoming one forever, Arthur,” he said, softly, dangerously. “Wouldn’t it be better to just get it over with?”

“Please. As a favor to me. You said earlier that you wouldn’t mind if I was Ayaka’s first,” he reminded him. A scarlet flame kindled in Ayaka’s cheeks. “Once again, if you speak love, then let you prove it.”

“Do you want a relationship, or do you want slaves?” Ayaka murmured. Her eyes were as blue as frost against her crimson face.

Wine poured into the Emperor’s glass like a flood; he drank of it deeply, then tossed the empty glass aside. It shattered into a thousand fragments on the tile. He looked long at the both of them, his gaze half-irritated, half-amused. “Caught again. Fine. I accede...with one caveat. No. Two caveats.” One long arm reached across the table, took a pomegranate seed, held it out to Ayaka. “First one. Before you go with Arthur, I want you to change clothes.”

She blinked rapidly. “Um...all right. May I ask why?”

The Emperor’s smile was small and tight. “Because, lovely, you wore that dress for _me_. That’s _my_ dress, not Arthur’s. The dress of an Empress, not a mere queen. If he’s going to be your first, then I don’t want you wearing that with him.” One hand touched the rubies at her throat, traced a slow road down to her breast. He laid his hand there, his palm tight to her skin, and Arthur had to look away. “Find something more suitable-I’m sure you’d prefer white, wouldn’t you, love?-and have him in that. Once you two are finished, bathe again. Then you can put this dress back on for me...or a better one, and come to me as my Empress.” His leer made it painstakingly clear what _better_ meant.

Her shoulders went back like a young soldier’s. “I will.” 

Rider smiled with grim humor. “Second caveat. You and Ayaka can have your private consummation, but before that, Arthur, you come to me. Alone.”

His first reaction was an overwhelming surge of relief that Ayaka would not have to watch the Emperor take him for the first time; the second an equally overwhelming tide of guilt that not only would Ayaka have to worry alone, they would still have to endure the Emperor’s attentions together. “Ayaka...?” he began softly.

She was biting her lip, head bowed to the floor. “If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me,” she said, her voice a near whisper.

The Sword Emperor watched him, his eyes sardonically bright. “Agreed,” he said, in the most detached tone he could manage.

“We’re all in accord then.” There was no mistaking the light of triumph dancing within Lucius Tiberius’s eyes. “Let's get married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things that delayed these chapters:
> 
> 1\. they're fucking huge and they fought me like you wouldn't believe.  
> 2\. mice.  
> 3\. my car window was accidentally broken by a person who shall remain nameless and had to be expensively repaired.  
> 4\. losing power for almost twenty-four hours due to giant storm.  
> 5\. other miscellaneous things.
> 
> my apologies!
> 
> also, my apologies for the complete lack of smut. this is not the way i planned it and i really should not make predictive statements about unwritten chapters because they almost never come true. these chapters went, again, way longer than I thought they would. i really should know by now, but i continue to be amazed at how you just can't know how things in your stories will go until you actually write them down. what was one filthy threesome sex scene has now ballooned into four-count 'em, four-separate sex scenes, which will likely be the reminder of this fic, not counting a dream sequence and other miscellaneous plot. there's that at least.


	12. Chapter 12

The room the Emperor led them to was small, but boasted an enormous pair of doors against the far wall, inlaid with gold and carved with all manner of fantastic flowers and fruits. Their feet made no sound on the deep crimson carpet.

Rider stopped just before the doors. “Wait,” he instructed and went to an elaborately carved chest that sat nearby. From it, he withdrew a square of deep red material, which, when unfolded and shaken out, proved to be a silken veil.

Carefully, he draped the fabric about Ayaka’s head and shoulders, tweaking and shifting it until it fell to his satisfaction. The fine silk drifted in the air, made a shimmering halo about her as she stood there, all white and rose, so beautiful his heart split in two. Two golden hairpins secured the veil in her hair, a kiss from Rider finalizing the business.

“There,” he said, pleased. “A proper Roman bride.”

Ayaka’s hand, small and cold, gripped his as Lucius Tiberius opened the doors.

Candles threw long shadows across the room, struck gold off the ornaments on the flower-bedecked alter. Frescos shone from the walls, gleaming with the mellow patina granted by age. A two-faced man, crowned with oak leaves green as emeralds, presided above the door. One face was young and joyful, the other old and stern. The second man held pride of place above the altar, framed by walnut trees so lifelike Arthur almost expected to hear their leaves rustling. One hand gripped a shining thunderbolt, sharp and silvery. His bearded face was regal and imposing, his strong body emerging from a cloud of golden lightning, clad in radiant white. 

The other two fresco were of women; the first clasped an infant in one arm and an iris flower in the other. She stood flanked by lions and peacocks, her head veiled, her eyes calm and wise, her face handsome, serene. The final was a beautiful maiden, pink-cheeked and curvaceous, swathed in gossamer draperies. Blossoms spilled from her hands, bound her golden hair like a crown. She smiled down at them, her blue eyes remote, her expression merry.

Ayaka gripped him even more tightly. “Who...?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Roman deities,” he replied, keeping his own voice low. “The man above the door is Janus, god of beginnings, the one with the air of a king, Jupiter, the Sacred Father. The first woman is most likely Juno, the Great Goddess, the Queen of Rome. The last, I am not certain, but I believe she may be Flora, goddess of spring, goddess of birth.”

“My patroness,” the Sword Emperor said as he quietly shut the door behind them. His voice was soft, almost reverent. “She who granted me Florent, She who guided my victories.”

Arthur held his tongue against the obvious rejoinder that Flora-and Florent-hadn’t saved Lucius Tiberius during his last battle. Still, how odd it was to hear the man who continuously proclaimed himself a god exalt other beings as superior to him. Especially his claim that a goddess known for beauty and gaiety rather than warfare and destruction was his particular guide. “The Goddess of Spring and Birth acted as your patroness? She truly had no issue with your actions? Your use of her symbol as a tool for bloodshed, for death?”

Rider was moving around the room, a slender taper in hand, lighting more candles. He bent to a small dish, touched it with his flame, and a sweet resinous scent filled the air. Done, he threw them an amused glance over his shoulder. “It’s not obvious? Florent is a _sword_ , Arthur. What are they meant for?” He looked up at Flora’s fresco and that reverent tone slipped into his voice again. “From where do the flowers in the springtime come, Arthur? From winter, the season of death, from the wreck of the old, from the ruin and decay of their forebears. You can’t have one without the other.” He dropped the taper into a dish of water, where it sizzled and went out. “Blood nourishes the blossom as well as water, sometimes better...besides, I went twelve years without a single smiting, didn’t I? My mother was...is...a priestess of Flora. Believe me, if She had taken offense at my actions, I would have known _very_ quickly.” 

“Is?” Ayaka said. Her face was white in the candlelight. “Do you mean...?”

“You’ll meet her tomorrow,” the Emperor murmured. “My last stepmother, Julia Drusilla. I don’t leave anything of mine behind.” He touched Ayaka’s arm, moved her back a step. “Ayaka on my left, Arthur on my right. I’ll start the invocation. You two don’t have to do anything at the moment other than stand here and look beautiful.”

Ayaka muttered something and rolled her eyes but Arthur felt her shiver, once. Her palm was icy against his, damp with sweat.

Lucius Tiberius smirked, kissed her cheek softly. “Save that wicked tongue for later, my darling,” he whispered, then stepped away and turned to face the alter.

“O Janus, You who govern all beginnings, all that is new, bestow Your favors upon us as we embark, untried, upon this path. O Jupiter, Most Sacred Father, King of Kings, You who rule over all, most humbly do I request Your grace and that You keep watch over me and mine. O Great Queen, Juno Matrona, Defender of Rome, mother of my mothers, crown of fertility, bestower of blessings, look down upon us as we enact Your sacrament upon this day. Most bountiful Flora, Queen of abundance, bringer of joy, hand of my fortunes.” The Emperor’s voice held a solemn grandeur Saber had thought Lucius Tiberius incapable of. “O Gods, the son of Your daughters, Lucius Tiberius Valentinus Augustus, asks humbly that You bestow Your graces upon this nuptial day. Descend upon us, O Great Ones and sanctify this marriage with Your favor.”

Arthur drew in a breath as the eyes of the gods flickered and seemed to grow lively in the candlelight. _Nothing more than an illusion brought forth by nerves and wavering shadows_ , he told himself sternly. 

Rider drew something small and gleaming from the flowers heaped on the alter. “Behold our joining and our tribute to You, O Great Ones,” he whispered as he turned to Ayaka, took her free hand in his, and Arthur realized what the Emperor held was a thin golden knife.

He pushed between them immediately. “What are you doing?”

Ayaka was silent, her lips tight. Lucius Tiberius gave him a chiding look. “Binding us. It won’t hurt her, it’s so sharp.” He offered the blade for inspection. Its razor edge shone even in the dim light. “A tiny wound that will take Ayaka barely a minute to heal. Not just Ayaka. All of us. I cut her, she cuts me, I cut you. And so on.”

Arthur thrust his hand out. “If the order matters not, then start with me.”

Rider laughed, very quietly. “Beloved, isn’t that the plan? Eager, so very eager to get to the best part.” He caressed the offered hand, running light fingers over Arthur’s knuckles, his wrist. The blade moved, so quickly he almost didn’t see it, and then his flesh parted, blood welling in his palm. It stung briefly, but that was all. “See? Nothing.” The Emperor passed the blade to Arthur’s unbloodied hand, grinning as he curled Saber’s fingers around the hilt. “So, why don’t you do Ayaka next?”

He shifted the knife more firmly into his grip, then turned to Ayaka. Slowly, she held out her hand. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you,” he whispered as he took hold of her. 

Ayaka’s eyes met his, calm, resigned. She kissed him, quick and soft. “It’s all right. Remember-” 

_We’re together_ , he finished mentally, and drew the blade across her skin. Blood traced the lines on her palm. A shudder passed over her and was gone. Carefully, he placed the blade across the top of her outstretched fingers. The Emperor watched, smiling, then gave his hand to Ayaka, so large in her small one. “My turn, lovely.” The blade flashed again, and Lucius Tiberius drew in a long, slow breath.

“I should give you knives more often,” he murmured, then took the blade and sent it across Ayaka’s unwounded hand before any of them could blink. “Last two. Arthur, you do my other hand, then final cut is Ayaka to Arthur.”

It was difficult with stinging, bleeding hands, but they managed. Once the last cut was made, Rider took the knife and laid it back upon the alter. “Accept our offerings, O Gods.” The Emperor’s hands slipped into his, into Ayaka’s, pressed their wounds together. “Join hands, the both of you.”

Arthur could feel energy pass between them as soon as their hands were entwined. They stood together, a triangle before the alter, heads bowed slightly. The air shifted, became heavy and warm, choking with the sweetness of a thousand flowers. Something rustled behind him. A flicker of white rushed past his eye and then something light was placed upon his head. Ayaka stifled a gasp. He jerked around. A young girl-two young girls-garbed in white, moved swiftly among them, laying flower crowns atop their hair.

“Easy. All part of the ceremony. Now it’s time for our vows,” the Emperor murmured. He took hold of his hand more tightly and Saber was amazed to feel him trembling. “I have a formula to follow, but you don’t. Say what you please, but state your consent clearly. Look at me. Arthur. Ayaka.”

They raised their heads, careful not to let the garlands slip. The flowers’ fragrance grew stronger, richer. They stood not in the room of an apartment building, but in a bower, a grove, bursting with spring. Arthur blinked and they were inside again, the candle flames waving and guttering as if in a strong breeze.

“Ayaka Sajyou.” She lifted her chin as Rider said her name. Her eyes were as blue as heaven, just as calm, just as distant but Arthur felt her fingers twitch. _Dear Lord, how small she looks before him._ “I give you fire and water. I give you my hand and my throne. I give you eternal life at my side. All that is mine, I grant to you and all that is yours becomes mine.” Ayaka’s hand was cold, so cold, shaking in his like a leaf tempest-tossed. “From this moment forth, I take you as my Empress, as my bride.”

Pollen from the blossoms in her hair had caught in her eyelashes, dusted her skin with gold. A stray petal clung to her throat, just above her collarbone. “Lucius Tiberius.” The Emperor’s eyes became brighter, more intense. His hand began to tremble again. “You will be as my sword. You will uphold our agreement. You will fulfill your vows. Do so, and from this moment forth...” Her voice became very quiet. “...From this moment forth, I agree to take you as my husband.” As soon as the words left her lips, Arthur felt a hum, like a million distant bees. Ayaka’s body jerked, as if in pain, her eyes widening. “What the-!” 

“Ayaka? What’s the matter? Ayaka!” She was shivering violently, her face stark white. A flash passed over her eyes, like summer lightning, and was gone. As it went, so did her trembling; slowly, she straightened, took a deep breath. Clasped his hand all the tighter. He whirled on the Emperor. “What have you _done?_ ”

Lucius Tiberius bent to Ayaka, as much as their bound hands would allow, glanced at Saber. His eyes looked like chips of amethyst. “Nothing harmful. Just part of making her eternal,” he replied softly and caught her mouth with his. 

Their kiss seemed to go on for eternity, their shivers passing into his body like water through a conduit, simultaneously heating and chilling his blood. Finally, the Sword Emperor broke the kiss and stepped away. Turned to face him.

Ayaka’s lips moved silently, as if in prayer.

“Arthur Pendragon, King of Britain.” The Emperor’s hand was still again, his voice calm. “I give you fire and water. I give you my hand and my heart. I give you eternal life at my side. All that is mine, I grant to you and all that is yours becomes mine.” A tingling rush, like electricity sped through his body and he gasped. Lucius Tiberius’s eyes glowed like banked coals in the weak light. Ayaka was shaking. “From this moment forth, I take you as my consort.”

“Lucius Tiberius Valentinus Augustus, Emperor of Rome.” He squeezed Ayaka’s hand before continuing. “You shall become our sword, you shall protect instead of kill, you shall heed our counsel, you shall grant us half our lives to ourselves. So long as the terms of our agreement are met,” he said in a clear, quiet voice, “then I will take you as my consort.” 

Power choked him then, ate him up, bone and breath and blood. Crystalline shards filled his heart, stinging, piercing pins. Then the storm died as quickly as it had begun, leaving him breathless. _No need to wonder at Ayaka’s reaction now_ , he thought dizzily. _What was that? The binding? Or something more? Is this...the power of the gods? A boon granted?_

Rider lifted their joined hands to his lips, brushed a kiss over his knuckles. “My Arthur, my dragon,” he heard through the ringing in his ears. The Emperor was trembling again. The power that had just eaten him, lust, excitement, or a combination of them all? “Mine! Eternally mine!” He pulled Arthur to him, crushed his mouth down on his, hot with ecstasy, with jubilation. Arthur felt another spark of that power as their tongues entwined and it made him shake all the way down into his bones.

Ayaka’s face, mute and miserable, hovered at the edge of his vision. Was that a tear on her cheek or just a trick of the light?

The Emperor broke their kiss with a satisfied sigh. “Burn this moment into me, O Gods,” he murmured, his face shining with joy. “From this day forth, I ask for nothing, want for nothing.”

“ _I_ ask that we finish this ceremony,” Ayaka said, her voice tense. She blinked, hard, and an unmistakable tear fell. Tears rushed to his own eyes. “ _Please_.”

Lucius Tiberius got to her before he could. “Oh, my darling.” He knelt before her, kissed her eyes, her cheek, her mouth. Nuzzled at her ear, pressed his face to hers. “Ayaka. My lovely Ayaka. I know it’s overwhelming, but don’t cry, sweet. One last step and it’ll all be over. You’ll be mine. You’ll be eternal with the two of us. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to grieve.” Another tear slipped down her cheek, then one more. The Emperor kissed them both away. “You’ll see. I’ll make you happy. I promise you.” He raised his head and Arthur saw one of the white-clad maidens drift from the shadows, bearing a small jeweled box. Opened, it contained three gold rings, incised with faint carvings that he couldn’t quite make out.

They washed the blood from their hands in a golden bowl on the altar, leaving the ruddy water as an offering. Freed, his prana immediately sealed the gap in his skin; besides him, Ayaka chanted soft words and he saw her wound disappear as well. Lucius Tiberius dried their hands with a silken cloth, then lifted the smallest ring out of the box. “For my Empress,” he murmured, and took Ayaka’s left hand. She stood perfectly still as he slipped the ring onto her third finger, kissed the back of her hand, her palm.

The Emperor lifted the second ring high and it glowed, light moving over it like ripples of flame. “Dragon of mine,” he said, his voice arch, teasing, “this one’s for you.”

Arthur extended his hand, felt the ring burn against his skin. It was lighter than he expected, yet strangely...heavy was not the word he would use. Dense, perhaps. The materialization of fourteen hundred years of longing, of desire. The fetter that would bind him to Lucius Tiberius for eternity. The Emperor’s lips came against his, loving, caressing. He stole a glance at Ayaka. She was standing a little ways away, eyes downcast, working her ring slowly back and forth against her finger.

He closed his eyes. Felt a dull knife twisting into him. _Oh, my queen and savior. We’ll exchange rings of our own, Ayaka. I promise._

Rider broke the kiss, pulled the last ring free. “Hmm. What to do? I guess the both of you should put it on together.” He pressed it into Arthur’s fingers, laid Ayaka’s hand on top. 

The Emperor’s hand was steady in his, but Saber could feel how quickly his pulse was beating. Ayaka took the ring, slid it onto the Emperor’s finger. His hand joined with hers and together, they eased it past Lucius Tiberius’s knuckle.

“It’s done,” Rider said softly, staring at the ring. The Emperor’s face was pale, his breathing rapid. The hand bearing the ring twitched; he folded it into a fist, dropped it to his side where it continued to shake. If Saber didn’t know better, he would say Lucius Tiberius seemed almost...frightened.

“So it is,” he agreed. By God, he could not remember the last time he had been so heartsick and weary. Perhaps that was a reminder that even this would eventually fade in the immensity of time, become nothing more than a picture, eroded and powerless. But for now, the night stretched forever.

Ayaka’s sigh was like something drawn from the bottom of the world.

 

“Don’t look so despondent, darling. Your time is coming,” Lucius Tiberius told Ayaka as they stood with her before the dressing room. “Soon as Arthur and I finish, he’ll be yours for that last free stretch. Then, it’s my turn.” He slid a finger under her chin, studied her face. Ayaka’s eyes were dark, shadowed by the flowers still wreathed in her hair. She met the Emperor’s gaze unflinching, but Arthur could see how stiffly she held herself. 

“Go on, Ayaka,” Rider said softly. His fingers stroked her skin. “Change your dress, prepare yourself for your Arthur.” The Emperor’s gaze was sharp, his smile sharper still. “I’ll send him to you once we’re done. Then-” he cupped her cheek, placed a tender kiss on her forehead, “-you’ll come to me as my Empress and we’ll all become one.”

“...Yes,” she said finally. “You do that.” She darted a look at him, unreadable, then kissed him firmly on the mouth. “Arthur, I’ll be waiting.” Her hand touched his heart- _I love you_ -and then she turned away, rose on tiptoe to press her mouth to the Emperor’s, and vanished inside the room, all before he could blink. 

Lucius Tiberius touched his lips, his face thoughtful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it should go without saying that most of that was not an actual roman wedding ceremony. my apologies to rome.
> 
> going back to the topic of not knowing what will come out until you start writing, looking back, there's a LOT of unintentional irony earlier in the fic. rider's offer of eternity was NOT part of my original plot, so ayaka and arthur trying to console themselves by saying "oh, he's temporary, once the grail war is done we'll be free" turned REAL bitterly ironic later on. likewise, a lot of rider's statements are going to bite him HARD in the sequel if i get to it. 
> 
> also ayaka's comment about saber not being possessive even if his life depended on it, hehehe.
> 
> arthur/lucius tiberius, then arthur/ayaka.


	13. Chapter 13

Rider joined hands with him as they left Ayaka behind, his long fingers curling around Saber’s like mistletoe upon an oak. A kind of nervous exaltation shone around him, yet his hand was perfectly still, his voice calm. “Anxious, Arthur? This is the end of an era, after all.” 

He kept his eyes forward. Each step he took felt like a thousand blades slashing at his skin, but he would let none of that show on his face, bleed into his voice. They were walking deeper into the building, through dim corridors lined with dark carved doors. Small sconces set high upon the walls provided the only light. The lamps seemed to grow further and further apart as they went, until they walked in near-darkness. 

It had been at least ten minutes, if not more, when he had parted from Ayaka, yet the hall continued endlessly on: surely, the building could not be so large. No doubt a magic of the Emperor’s, meant to confuse enemies. “For myself, no.”

Lucius Tiberius made a noise that might have been a laugh and stopped before a pair of doors, indistinguishable from all the rest. “Here we are.”

The knob turned, the door opened and Arthur stepped over the threshold into a lightless room.

“Apologies for the lack of luxuries. This isn’t the room I had planned to have our wedding night in,” Rider said, flicking the light switch. A soft glow sprang up from a gilded lamp upon a table, illuminating dark, massive furniture, curtains and coverlet of rich brocade, but outside the small pool of light, shadow clustered thickly. “We’ll go there once Ayaka joins us, but for now-” He crossed to a sideboard, poured himself wine: from scent and appearance the same wine he had brought out earlier in celebration of their “joining”. Rider drank, and watched Arthur with glittering eyes. 

Two large chairs stood close to the bed, but he ignored them and sank down on the coverlet. _I will not shroud myself in false modesty. Best just to get this over with. Burn off as much of the Emperor’s lusts as possible, for Ayaka’s sake._ His hands were icy, his mouth parched. _Calm. This will be no different than earlier, simply more...involved. This is merely battle, albeit of a different kind than usual._

_If there is anything I know, it is battle._

“Drink?” the Emperor asked, holding his glass up in a faint mockery of a toast. Saber shook his head. “Come on, Arthur. You’re paper-white. Even your hair looks blanched.” Rider’s hand, rough and hot, stroked through his hair, trailed down to caress his cheek, his lips. “Am I that frightening?”

“I have never feared for myself around you,” he replied quietly. “I’m merely...tired.”

Lucius Tiberius gave him a crooked smile. “Long day, longer evening. Rest will come in time, but...” He held out the glass again. “All the more reason to fortify yourself.” 

“No, thank you.”

“Love, take a sip, at least. You look like you’re about to collapse.” 

A sigh of exasperation escaped him. No point in resisting if the Emperor meant to keep up his badgering. “Fine.” He took the proffered glass, turned it to the unused side, and drank deeply. Sweet as honey, hot as the summer sun. Warmth curled his toes. He finished and returned the glass, ignoring the look of sly approval on Lucius Tiberius’s face.

Rider smirked as he refilled the glass and drank voluptuously, turning it so his mouth would rest on the same spot as Arthur’s. He set it down empty with a clank and turned back to Arthur, his long fingers working at the shoulder of his _pallium._

His stomach clenched. Slowly, he reached for his own jacket, began to ease it off.

“Don’t,” the Emperor said quietly. “That’s my job.” He finished with the _pallium’s_ pins, tossed it over the back of the chair furthest from the bed. Shrugged off his coat. Underneath he wore a black tunic, made fine with crimson and gold embroidery. Sitting in the other chair, he kicked off his boots, lifted the golden circlet of laurel from his brow. An odd half-smile drifted across his mouth as he regarded it, and then he was sitting besides Arthur on the bed, placing the crown upon his hair.

It slipped down, biting into the tops of his ears. Arthur had been an extraordinarily tall man for his day and was still considered tall, but Lucius Tiberius had a good two or three inches on him and a broader frame besides. _Not to mention all that hair of his._

“A bit too big, huh,” the Emperor said, looking at him thoughtfully. “I’ll have to have one made specially for you-and for Ayaka too, of course.” His arm slipped under his jacket, wrapped around Arthur’s waist. One hand caressed his hip. “Still, it suits you.”

The Emperor’s fingers burned through the thick cloth of his pants. He closed his eyes. “I have neither need nor wish to flaunt myself. Even during my kingship, I wore my crown rarely.” The caressing fingers untucked his shirt, brushed softly against his skin. “This is a time of battle, not display.” Rider’s hand glided up his side, tickled him gently. Found his nipple, circled it, stroked it. Pinched it hard enough to make him gasp. “I’m-” His breath was coming short. “I’m sure Ayaka would agree.”

“Too modest, as always,” Rider murmured and sank his teeth into Arthur’s earlobe. Heat flooded his body, gathered painfully between his legs. “But that’s you. You shy and I shine. That’s why we complete each other. You’re balking at this marriage, but it was inevitable from the day we were born. This is fate, Arthur. You and I were always meant to be one.”

“E-Excuse me?” _What fresh madness is this?_

Kisses, soft as snow, fell upon his jaw, his cheek, his throat. “We’re two halves of one whole. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize? My heart, I’m your shadow. Everything you won’t let yourself be, I am and everything you are, I’m not.” 

He opened his mouth to refute his idiocy but Rider laid a finger on his lips, keeping him silent. Slid his thigh underneath his leg so that Arthur was almost sitting on his lap. A tug and Arthur _was_ in his lap, the Emperor’s erection hard against his spine. Grinning, Rider rocked his hips, rubbed against him with a soft groan. “Did you know we were born on the same day, love? Not the false birthday you were given to hide the fact that you were Uther Pendragon’s get, the one you continued to use out of pity for your mother, so it would never be known that she betrayed her husband as he lay dying on the battlefield. Your _real_ birthday. May 19th.” 

Shock prickled within him. “How...?” _I’ve researched you extensively, Arthur of Britain,_ the Emperor boasted in his mind. But the only people who had known had been himself, his mother, and Merlin, and Igrainia had been long dead by the time he’d faced off with Lucius Tiberius in that rock-strewn valley.

“Duchesses don’t give birth alone, my love. They have midwives. Midwives have daughters. Daughters who were down on their luck, and very willing to sell their dead mother’s secret for enough gold to feed themselves and their children for a few years.” Rider laughed quietly into his ear. Placed a kiss on his cheek. “It took a lot of effort to track her down, but oh so worth it to forge another link between us. Funny how your pet mage didn’t bother to mindwipe her. In the right hands, that information could have done a lot of damage.” 

Hands like the ones currently removing his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, nudging his thighs apart, light stroking touches coming teasingly close to his manhood.

“Is that what gave you this taste for modesty, love? Having to hide? Even after you took your rightful place, all I heard, over and over, was how everything was for your people. You, who should have had the best of everything, gave it all away, keeping nothing for yourself. No luxuries, no peace, no pleasure, no fun. Is that what growing up as a peasant does to you?” Rider’s mouth against his neck, teeth and tongue at the mark he’d left earlier, working it deeper into his skin as he twisted his nipples between his fingers and Arthur moaned, blood pounding in his temples. His fingers clamped down on the Emperor’s thigh, wanting support, wanting retaliation, found nothing but steel-hard muscle and fine cloth. 

Rider shuddered, licked at his ear, bit the rim. “There won’t be an unmarked spot on your body by the time I’m done with you, my love,” he whispered and ran his nails into his side.

It was becoming more and more difficult for him to breathe. His member ached, shamelessly hard and straining against his pants. “There was...nothing wrong with my upbringing,” he ground out. Rider’s hands, hot and eager, stripped off his shirt, dropped it on the floor. Those hands went to his belt next, began to unbuckle it. “Unlike...you...I had a loving father, loving parents. I-” Teeth sank in his shoulder and he yelped, nearly fell off Rider’s lap. The Emperor pulled him back, held him tight.

“Exactly,” Lucius Tiberius breathed into his ear. “You grew up a peasant, I grew up a god. Your father loved you; mine didn’t. I ruled from a marble palace and fought for pleasure; you spent your kingship wallowing in filth and blood and fought from grim duty. Shadows. Opposites. Mirror twins. How much more convincing do you need? Hah, I know. Have you told Ayaka the name you grew up under?”

Arthur closed his lips tightly, and not just because Rider was sucking another mark onto his throat.

“I bet you haven’t... _Lucius Artorius Castus._ What better _praenomen_ to call the future Emperor’s beloved by? What better place to hide him than in the home of a poor but respectable Romano-British family?” His laughter was rich with delight. “Especially one who just so happened to have a _nomen_ that so closely mapped to the Welsh Arthur? Oh, Fortuna’s hand was at work there, and no mistake, _Artorius._ I wasn’t just using the name during our battle because it’s Roman. I was showing you how well I already knew you.” His voice softened. “My dragon, my heart. I spent my whole life waiting for you. No one else was ever able to satisfy me. I know you felt the same.”

Ayaka’s heaven-blue eyes looked into his own. _Yes, but you never were and never will be the one I so dearly sought._

Callused fingers, burning hot, touched him gently, wrapped around his erection. The air shimmered with sharp-edged golden light. Pleasure, sweet as peace and more bitter than death. Each breath he took choked him. 

“Look at me, my Arthur,” the Emperor whispered and pressed his mouth to his, tongue gently stroking along his bottom lip.

Rider’s mouth was sweet and terrible, his hands tender instruments of torture. They stroked him, caressed him, made his heart race, his skin burn. His hips were arching, pressing fervently into the Emperor’s wicked, clever, loving hands. Hands that were tearing him to pieces, bit by agonizing bit. The Sword Emperor’s thumb circled the head of his erection, rubbed the slit, worked the drops that fell free back into his skin. Sweat swamped him. Fire and lightning seared his brain, set his head spinning, sent briars rambling through his chest like the day he’d nearly drowned in the mill pond, before the miller’s son had fetched him up from the dark water. That water was rising before his eyes now, cutting off his vision. Gasping, he slung an arm around Rider’s shoulders, held on for dear life. The other man’s cheek rasped against his own. “Love, love, _love_ ,” the Emperor groaned and crushed his mouth down on his.

He moaned, unable to control himself, unable to withstand the ecstasy twisting him apart and came, spilling himself over Lucius Tiberius’s waiting hands.

Words in his ear, none of which he understood. Silk under his cheek. The Emperor was laying him gently on the bed. Hands pulled his trousers away and he was left bare, cool cloth against hot skin. He flushed, sudden and ridiculous. _Don’t be foolish, Arthur._

But he’d never in his life been completely undressed with someone about to lay with him. Especially someone who lusted after him with such eager relentlessness. Gwenhwyfar had never laid eyes on him nor he her: they had lain together under decorous layers of cloth and never sought otherwise. Morgan had been a fevered nightmare of stone and steel, a nightmare he now shoved to the bottom of his mind. Ayaka...

Ayaka, blushing and timid, laying herself bare to his gaze before they bathed. Shyly turning her back on his own nakedness. Shining hair in his hands, the delicate line of her throat. A tremor went through him. Ayaka, a vision in crimson, her soft white breasts scarcely covered by thin silk, breasts that asked for his hands, his mouth, his teeth, his tongue...

His manhood twitched. 

Lust. Lust again, more potent than before. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until Ayaka’s shade dwindled and vanished. Copper blood flowed over his tongue. _I...oh, Ayaka....Am I really no better than Lucius Tiberius?_

“I want Ayaka too, Arthur,” Rider whispered suddenly in his ear, startling him. He lay besides him, tunic gone, trousers unfastened. A well-formed body, fair skin patched with scars, his member the same deep red as the hair that marked his belly. One hand began to play with Arthur’s nipple. “You have no idea how much. But you’re with me now, not her. So. Pay attention to me, think only of me, and leave our beautiful bride for later.”

“What makes you think that I’m...pondering...Ayaka?” he said, feeling an odd jab of anger. 

Lucius Tiberius grinned. The edge of his nail dug, very gently, into Arthur’s skin. “The way your expression smoothed out, became all peaceful and holy. You actually relaxed for a second. Then, you made a face, got all worked up again.” His other hand moved between his legs, fondled his softening member. Fingers wrapped around the base. A gliding touch, up to the head and down again. Stinging warmth began to spread through his body. “Harboring impure thoughts, hmm? Lewd fantasies about our wife? Ayaka’s really something in that dress, isn’t she? When I first saw her, I thought I was going to die.” The Emperor’s tongue dragged slowly up his throat, traced the curve of his jaw. “Once we’re together, I’m going to take it off her with my _teeth_.”

Fire roared within him, a blaze threatening to become an inferno. “ _Stop_.”

Rider raised an eyebrow. “It’s all right to want her, you know,” he said softly. “Thanks to me, you’re married now. Hell, even if you weren’t married, it wouldn’t be wrong to want her. She’s a beautiful woman, and so interesting besides.” Feathery kisses over his temples, his forehead, his eyes. “You don’t have to deny yourself any more, Arthur. Take what you want, what you need. The past is over. Now, you can do whatever you want.”

Saber looked straight into the Emperor’s gleaming eyes. Laid a hand on his burning cheek, felt the other man shiver. “ _No_ one,” he replied, with weary emphasis, “can ever do whatever they want.” 

His hand covered Arthur’s. Slowly stroked his fingers, tip to palm. “Typical Arthur,” Rider said with a sigh. “Are you ever going to shake that gloomy asceticism? I wonder if you’ll perk up-” his voice dropped into a purr, “-once I drown you in pleasure and you learn just how good life can be.”

Mother of Mercy, the man was infuriating. “Pleasure? There are far more important things-” 

“Yes, yes, battle, yes, yes, evil. Seems like you won’t fully relax until I present you and Ayaka with Manaka Sajyou’s head.” The Emperor rolled over, put a hand into the drawer of the small table by the bed. A crystal phial dangled between his fingers, glinting in the lamplight. “But, right now, in this room, none of that exists. Here, it’s just you, and me, and time.”

Arthur stared at the phial, his tongue suddenly too heavy to move.

“Tonight we’re going to find out exactly what you like, Arthur,” Lucius Tiberius continued, his voice low, full of promise. He uncorked the phial, tossed the stopper away. Scent filled the air, rich with spices. “I think I have an idea already but now, we’re going to make it certain. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

_Ayaka._

“I-” He licked dry lips. “I have no needs. Wants?” Rider’s gaze held his like steel chains. “Never a priority of mine. I have so little experience with this sort of thing. I don’t know. Truly, I don’t. So do with me as you please, as you always do.”

The Emperor’s fingers took hold of his chin, turned his face to his. Rider’s breath was hot on his cheek, on his lips. He closed his eyes, waiting for the kiss. “Do you want a relationship,” Rider murmured, “or do you want slaves?”

Saber’s eyes shot open.

The hand holding his chin curled around the back of his head, brought their foreheads to touch. “You want me to uphold all my promises, but aren’t willing to do the same yourself? I don’t think so, Arthur. Own your desires.” He rose, moved down the bed, until he was crouching besides Arthur’s legs. “You’re going to touch me and you’re going to kiss me. You’re going to move and you’re going to talk. You’re going to be open about what you like and you’re going to ask for more.” The Emperor’s hands on his thighs, raising them towards his chest, spreading them apart. He flushed, felt his heart skip a beat or three. “So, let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i was going to wait until i finished the entire chapter to post it but this fucker is already more than 5000 words long and still a huge chunk left to go, plus i feel very guilty for not updating for so long. so here's the first half of arthur/lucius tiberius. enjoy! i'll do my best to get the rest up as soon as possible. 
> 
> for anyone who cares, arthur is 6'0 and lucius tiberius hovers somewhere around 6'3. yeah, he's big.
> 
> man, arthur really needs to learn that filthy, kinky, loving sex is a real and legitimate thing. ~~saber alter though~~
> 
> lucius artorius castus was a real life roman who might have been the inspiration for king arthur, though he lived several centuries before arthur supposedly existed. also, whoever originally made up lucius tiberius screwed up and gave him two _praenomen_ instead of a _praenomen_ and _nomen_ , like real roman names. whoops.


	14. Chapter 14

Warm oil dripped over his skin, pooled under his body. Rider began to massage the outside of his thighs, fingers digging hard into the muscle, demanding that he relax. Some of his tension reluctantly bled away under that insistent touch. His skin slowly turned golden, took on a sheen in the lamplight. The rough tips of Rider’s fingers stroked him, moved a little closer to the junction of his thighs. Arthur felt a quick throb, anxiety and pleasure mixed together. The Emperor looked up, a smirk on his lips. “Good?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Excellent,” Rider purred and wrapped his hand around his member, gave it a quick, firm stroke.

He let himself groan quietly, fighting the urge to clamp his lips together. As much as he hated to admit it, the Emperor was correct: the terms had been set, the bargain had been struck and he was not truly fulfilling his end of the deal. So he forced himself to rock his hips with Lucius Tiberius’s rhythm, let soft cries escape his lips. Bolts of pleasure skidded up and down his spine, an enormous storm cresting, threatening to break-

Bliss ate holes in him, his body unraveling. Lucius Tiberius gave a moan of his own as Arthur spent himself, his seed falling thick and white onto his belly. The Emperor sucked his wet fingers greedily, rapture in his eyes, pressed his face against Arthur’s stomach. Cleaned him with long laps of his tongue as he lay there, panting and helpless, until not a single drop was left. 

That mouth, wicked and hot, so close to his member. Just as the last time...

“Are you-” He was having a difficult time catching his breath. “Are you planning to use your mouth on me again?”

Rider’s head snapped up. “Do you want me to?”

Slow, deep breaths, Arthur thought, and studied him. Noted his flushed cheeks, his burning eyes. _How eagerly he reacts whenever I take the initiative, no matter how slight._ Choking on the Emperor’s flesh, watching him toss and moan as Arthur tried awkwardly to see what made him tick. _Let me...make use of this._ “I did ask that I be warned first,” he replied dryly and reached up, touched Rider’s cheek. Trailed his fingers along his jaw, felt him swallow, hard. “Are you?”

The Emperor’s grin showed all of his sharp, white teeth. “You liked it, didn’t you? I could tell.”

“It was...pleasurable.” _Awful and wonderful and gut-clenching, and harder to live through than some battles I’ve fought._ He took a deep breath, spread his legs a little wider and looked Lucius Tiberius straight in the eye. Saw him shudder, lick his lips. Rider touched his own manhood, quick and light, then slid out of his pants, threw them to the far end of the room. He took Arthur’s face between his hands, kissed him, slow and deep and reverent, tongue twining with his.

“Let’s set the stage first,” he whispered, and bent to take Arthur’s nipple in his mouth.

Heat, the wet pull of the Emperor’s mouth as he sucked. Teeth, knife-sharp, dancing him over the boundary of pleasure and pain. He bit back a cry, allowed himself move a little. Rider pinched his other nipple, slowly increasing the pressure until his nails nearly met and Arthur _moaned,_ hips arching off the bed. Laughing, the Emperor opened his mouth a little wider, sucked hard, teeth scoring his flesh, then pulled away. He looked down with hazy eyes. Purple and red, the Emperor’s colors, blooming on his skin. Lucius Tiberius kissed the corner of his mouth, then bent to his other nipple and he writhed under that hellish pleasure once more.

Rider’s mouth traced his ribs, bit here, bit there. Sounds he didn’t think he was capable of making massed behind his lips. One or two of them slipped free. His tongue dipped into Arthur’s navel, curled there until he squirmed, then left to lick at the line of hair just below. The press of teeth just above his manhood, another mark of the Emperor’s favor left in his skin and he groaned through bitten lips.

Every nerve in his body was burning and still Lucius Tiberius continued to bite, to tease, to do anything and everything other than give him blessed release.

“Please,” he gasped, “if you’re going to, _do.”_

Rider looked up at him, his face glowing, content. “You’re so hard, love,” he murmured and stroked the newest bite mark lightly. “I wonder if I can make you come without touching your cock? But-” His hand circled the base, held him firm. “Why deprive myself?”

Soft lips brushed him. Wet heat enveloped the whole of him, agony and relief in one and Arthur could have sobbed aloud. _God help me to keep my mind. Response is one thing-total abdication of control quite another._

The Emperor moaned around his manhood, the vibration striking forth another bolt of pained pleasure from deep within him. All he could see of the other man was a bobbing crown of red hair, a long hand gripping his thigh. Movement flashed at the corner of his eye. The other hand...

Was wrapped around the Emperor’s own manhood, stroking, pulling, caressing. What little blood wasn’t between his legs rushed to his face. Was he that exciting, that Rider had to seek relief before consummation? Lucius Tiberius moaned again, longer this time, and Arthur saw white glistening thickly between his fingers.

Arthur shut his eyes. Felt fire leap in his belly, roar down between his legs. His fingers tangled in the sheets, vainly hoping that would keep his hips still. Soon. He was going to come again very soon and then-

Lucius Tiberius _sucked,_ drew his tongue over the vein on the underside and squeezed his balls gently with his free hand. Pleasure, total, black and absolute, devoured him. The world crumbled and fell away, sent him down to the bottom of the ocean, hurled him back upon shore to lay there, blind and gasping.

Rider was kissing him, soft and feverish. “Come back, love.” Arms enfolded him, held him close, petted and stroked him. “Come back. See, this is what happened when you ignore pleasure all your life.” There was laughter in the Emperor’s voice. “You have no defenses against it, you can’t take it and it eats you alive.”

_Eating is certainly a good way to describe it,_ he thought, exhausted. _It chews away at you until there’s nothing left._

“Don’t fade out on me now, Arthur,” Lucius Tiberius whispered between kisses. He was being laid down again, the bed soft under his aching body. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” 

The scent of the oil wafted to him and he opened his eyes. Rider was working it into his fingers, his eyes heavy-lidded, his smile softly pleased. He looked up, met Saber’s eyes and his smile deepened. “I was afraid I’d lost you.” His gleaming fingers caught the light as he rubbed, coating every inch of his hands and Arthur’s heart began to pound. “Dragon of mine, have you ever been penetrated before?”

“No.” His voice sounded thin and annoyed, not the tone he wanted at all. Silently, he reproved himself, made his next words calmer, more controlled. “No, I haven’t.”

“Never? I know you’ve never been with a man, but you never touched yourself there when jerking off? Not even once, out of curiosity?”

He gritted his teeth. “I rarely “jerked off” as you put it, and when I did, it never occurred to me to do...that.”

The Emperor stared at him, incredulous horror in every line of his face. “You even denied yourself _that?_ No wonder you’re so uptight. A wife who disliked you, a non-existent sex life and now you’re telling me you didn’t even jerk off to try and get some relief? Love, you’re inhuman.” His oil-slick hands stroked his thighs, lifted and parted them again. His blood turned to ice. “Three daughters and a bastard aside, you’re practically a virgin.” Oil poured between his legs in a slow, steady stream, warm and fragrant. “So much to learn...and how gladly I’ll teach you.”

He was doing his best to calm his racing heart, to shake the tension from his body but when the Emperor’s fingers drew near he automatically twitched away. “I’m sorry, but...” The words hovered on the edge of his tongue but he couldn’t quite make them fall free. “Could you...please...”

“Go slow? Sure. Anything you want. Like I said, all you have to do is ask.” A finger skimmed his entrance, made light circles. His thumb came up, began to rub gently, massaged over and around. Stroked harder after a moment, pressing deeply into his skin, the pad of his thumb almost-but not quite-slipping inside him. Such an odd feeling, not at all unpleasant. But that was exactly what made it discomforting, he thought, and bit the inside of his lip.

“You’re starting to relax, love.” Rider’s breath was hot against him. Pleasure skittered down his body. “May I?”

_Please, get this over with._ “All right.”

The Emperor gave him a sharp look, then took his thumb away. A finger slowly, gently pushed inside, scorched him like a brand burning. Flesh within flesh, throbbing heat taking possession of his body and another finger slid in, stretching him wide, opening him, thrusting-

White light burst behind his eyes. Lucius Tiberius had found something deep inside him, pleasure like hellfire, like sweet acid eating into him, and another finger joined the first two, jerked back and forth, never leaving that spot. Dying. He was dying from pleasure worse than any pain, his body no longer his own, another paroxysm coming, his moans loud enough to cover the entire world, and he shoved his fist into his mouth, bit down hard.

Slowly, he came back, out of that white-edged darkness. Hot lips on his forehead, a warm hand stroking his hair. Rider cradled his wounded hand, licked blood off his knuckles. “Gods, you came hard. I thought Ayaka fell apart impressively, but that was _something else.”_

“Shut...up,” he croaked. His head rang with a dull pulsing blackness that surged and grew like fire on dry wood. There was a fierce throbbing ache between his legs, both inside and out. “Just _shut up_ and finish this. Before what little is left of my mind collapses entirely. Mount me, claim me and then free me from your frankly _demonic_ hands to go to my wife.”

One of the Emperor’s eyebrows lifted. “Aren’t we being a little dramatic? Demonic? That’s a first. Mostly, it was _don’t stop_ and _more.”_ He laughed then, and kissed him deeply. “So impatient! All in good time, love, all in good time. Take a minute to recover-”

“Time passes,” he snapped. “Eventually the sun will rise...and you are not the only one who has a claim on me tonight.” 

Rider sighed. Flipped his forelock out of his eyes, looked at him coolly. “Testy. I’ll let it go; you’re clearly overstimulated, overwhelmed. Once you’ve acquired more experience, you’ll calm down, learn to enjoy me without reserve...and then _more_ will be spilling from your own lips.”

_Not if I have anything of myself left._ Shakily, he sat up, began to rise. “Enough. By Christ’s wounds, _enough._ Finish this. How do you want me? On my hands and knees?” The humiliation inherent in the position would be more than compensated by not having to look at the Emperor’s face.

A shove sent him sprawling back to the mattress. “Wrong question, Red Dragon. And you were doing so well.” Lucius Tiberius climbed on top of him, kissed him savagely, bit at his tongue. “What did I say earlier? This isn’t about me. If tonight was about my desires, you’d be chained to the fucking bedposts, begging for me to come and fuck you senseless. But that would be _demonic_ and you don’t seem to like that.” The Emperor’s tongue flicked over his ear just before his teeth sank into Arthur’s earlobe. Made him yelp. “I’ll ask one final time: what do _you_ want?”

Anger spread leathery wings inside him. “I want rest. I want peace. I want my wife. I want you to spend yourself in me so totally that you lay weak as a kitten in Ayaka’s lap and touch her not.” He yanked the Emperor down, wrapped his arms around him, held him tight. “Right now, those are my chiefest desires. Are you satisfied?”

“Honesty at last,” Rider muttered into his neck. Hands, spreading him wide. Hot kisses along his throat. Teeth cutting into his collarbone, making him hiss in pain. Clamp his hands on the Emperor’s back. “See? Not so hard.” A kiss as if Lucius Tiberius was starving, teeth and tongue seizing his mouth. Love bites left stinging on his shoulders, his chest. 

One hand slid under his hip, brought his leg to curve around the Emperor’s waist. Saber’s breath hitched. “My Arthur. I love you. I’ll do anything for you. Trust me to fulfill your desires, love. Each and every one.”

Arthur felt the blunt head of him press at his entrance, slowly begin to slide inside. 

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

“Let’s _merge,”_ Lucius Tiberius whispered and pushed.

Rider’s fingers had been as nothing compared to the fiery stretch of _this_ , splitting him open with slow, excruciating tenderness. Every space in him was filled, choked with that thick twitching heat, buried so deeply inside him it would never come out and his body convulsed like Lucius Tiberius had taken hold of his bared heart.

“Oh Gods, this is the moment I was made for,” the Emperor sighed and kissed him ravenously.

His hips jerked without warning, rubbed his manhood against the Emperor’s belly, pushed him in further. A gentle kiss swallowed his moan as Lucius Tiberius rose slightly, shifted his hips and Arthur felt himself turn to ash. 

Were those Lucius Tiberius’s groans, or his?

He was moving faster, hitting that spot inside him that meant annihilation. Rider’s hands wound in his hair, wound around his hips, pulled their bodies together, no space between, Saber’s member throbbing as each sharp thrust rubbed him hard against the Emperor. The Emperor’s mouth was a furnace, tongue entangling with his, stroking feverishly and his mouth and cheeks were wet and getting wetter with each roll of his hips.

“Arthur, oh, my Arthur, my king, my dragon, come for me again. Harder than before. Come.” Rider’s voice was a warm croon in his ear. Each thrust to that spot sent shock waves through his brain. Oblivion glowed within him, another orgasm ready to sink its claws in and rend him unto death. Desperately, he stroked Lucius Tiberius’s back with numb fingertips, trying to fix himself in space, in time. “My first love, my only love. Come for me. Come. Come.” There was a ridge of scar tissue an inch or so below the nape of his neck; he followed the curling track of it over the Emperor’s shoulder blade, down and around to his side. Dug his fingers in. Rider moaned, grabbed Arthur’s hand, twined it with his. “I won’t come until you do,” he gasped. “Together. As we’re meant to be.”

The dark was growing brighter, the room wavering like candle-flame. Pleasure twisted him, pain choked him, the deep piercing stretch that was Rider within his body threw him out of himself, breathless and drifting. His belly, white and wet. Heat like lava spreading deep inside him, a cry like the world breaking, lips, hands, tongue, all afire, the slap of Lucius Tiberius’s flesh against his, and he was-

(His fingers tightened in the Emperor’s. He could feel the bed again, could feel his arms and legs, the burn deep inside him. Air moved in and out of his lungs. 

Lucius Tiberius lay panting against him, his face wet.)

-still himself...

 

They lay, limbs tangled, in a welter of brocade, blankets yanked haphazardly across their bodies. 

“Rest. Just for a bit,” the Emperor coaxed softly. “I know you want to go to Ayaka, but you really should take it easy, love.” His hand tousled Arthur’s hair gently. Stroked his cheek. “A few minutes’ rest won’t hurt.”

Arthur grimaced, but let Rider arrange his head against his chest, wrap his arms around him. If indulging the Emperor kept him in a sweeter temper...

Though, was it possible for a mortal being to be any happier then Rider currently was? He lay smiling, eyes heavy with satisfaction, with triumph and with what Arthur dearly hoped was exhaustion as well. 

A far sweeter weariness too, than the heavy languor that shrouded him, body and soul. _Enough. I’ll deal with this later. This night is not yet over and I will need all my strength for Ayaka’s sake._

Rider’s heart beat quietly against his cheek, his breathing soft and lazy. Lulling. His eyes dropped, threatened to shut before he snapped back to himself. _No! Now is the time. I can’t wait any longer._

“Please,” he began and stopped. Rider’s eyes shifted to his. One finger stroked his jaw, very gently. “Please...be kind to Ayaka.”

Lucius Tiberius wore an odd expression on his face. It was not quite a smirk, but there was certainly something secret and pleased about his smile. “And what if, my love,” he said softly, “she doesn’t want me to be?”

“How could she not?” he said, exasperation creeping through his weariness. “Notwithstanding your...activities, earlier, she is a maiden...or rather will have very shortly ceased to be one when you...go to her.”

In answer, Rider tilted his head back and stroked a spot halfway up his throat. Under his finger, a faint red mark upon his pale skin. “Who do you think put this on me?”

A cold finger touched his spine. “...Ayaka?” 

“Oh yes.” Now he was definitely smirking. “And not out of fear or flight, either. No, Arthur, love. She marked me because she wanted to.”

“Ayaka?” he repeated dumbly. True, Ayaka with her glasses off was considerably more...peppery, and she’d been without them for a while, but...Ayaka?

She revolved before his eyes, crimson skirts unfurling about her like the petals of a rose. _I’m going to make him want me more than he wants you._

The Emperor leaned over and kissed him soundly and more than a little pityingly, then pushed him away. “Honesty is something the both of you really need to work on, love,” he said with a sigh as he rose and left Arthur to himself.

 

 

Ayaka picked at the beading on her skirt, fiddled with a loose thread. She wasn’t sure how much time had actually passed, but whatever the time, it was far too long.

_Where is he? Does he know where I am?_ After changing she’d been taken to a room in the opposite direction of the one they’d been married in, a room full of large dark furniture and shadows. She’d sat in one of the big, brocaded chairs by the bed, folded her hands in her lap and waited. 

And waited.

The women in the dressing room had been completely unperturbed when she had appeared again and asked for a new dress. The one she’d chosen for Arthur was silver embroidery and blue beading over white, the bodice curving up over her breasts like the tips of a swan’s wings. White roses and a spray of diamonds in her hair. No jewelry. The neckline wasn’t anywhere near as extreme as the one she’d chosen for Lucius Tiberius, but she’d remembered the look on Arthur’s face when he’d first seen her, the guilty drop of his eyes to her breasts, the blush that had spread over his cheeks. So, a higher neckline, but one that still showed off some skin, the very beginning of her Master’s Degree. The mark that sealed them as one.

A seal that, unlike their marriage, would eventually disappear. 

Eternal. According to the Emperor, she was now eternal, like the two of them. Like her sister. She wiped her sweating palms on the sides of the cushion. In the dim light, her ring shimmered. 

What did that mean? _Really_ mean? Was she somehow more than human now? _Less_ than human? 

Saber, Rider and her sister had all achieved “eternity” by dying.

Every time she thought about it, her stomach twisted, turned hot, then cold. She didn’t feel any different than usual. Just herself, as always. However, that ritual during the wedding ceremony...Maybe it was something that would creep up on her slowly, change her over time to...what?

_I’ll...think about this later,_ she decided, and shut her eyes. _Not the best subject for a wedding night._

The door knob turned.

Ayaka sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, hands fumbling with her skirts. “Arthur?” Her voice cracked embarrassingly on the last syllable. “I’m-” 

The Sword Emperor slipped through the door, closed it, locked it, leaned back against it. Grinned at her.

_“You?”_ The word exploded out of her. “What? What are _you_ doing here? Go away!” She bunched her shaking hands deep into her skirts. “Where’s Arthur? You’re not supposed to be here-” 

“Setting himself to rights. He’ll be a little while. Don’t worry, he’s still in one piece,” Rider said, his grin widening. He was wearing a different outfit than before; a modern white shirt so thin she could clearly see his skin underneath, flushed and gleaming, black pants. His eyes roamed over her body, slowly taking her in from head to toe. “I like the dress. It’s good on you in a different way from mine.”

“Why are you here?” she snarled through gritted teeth. Her heart was beating thick and loud under the shining bodice of her dress. “This is Arthur’s time. Not yours.”

“I came by to see how my Empress was faring-”

“Fine! Just fine!”

“I thought you might be lonely.” To her surprise, he knelt on the floor before her, so tall that even seated his head was level with her breasts. She could smell expensive soap, and mint. Lucius Tiberius took her hands in his, laid a kiss in the center of each palm. Blood flamed in her face. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine,” she said again, her voice tight. “I’m used to being alone. I’ve been alone for years. It doesn’t bother me.”

The Emperor looked at her in disbelief. “Really? Sounds like hell to me.” Slowly, he turned the ring on her finger, rubbing his thumb over the metal. Then, he leaned up and stole a kiss, tongue darting in and out of her mouth. “I’ve never been alone. Every day of my life, I’ve been surrounded by people. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her knees were shaking. She said a silent prayer of gratitude for long skirts. “If your father ignored you except to say _you’re not good enough_ and your sister tried to kill you, then you’d damn well prefer to be alone too.”

Rider laughed so hard his face turned scarlet. “Darling,” he gasped once he caught his breath, “my father _did_ try to kill me. Not to mention the countless other assassination attempts from courtiers, relatives and opportunists that I survived over the years. And I _still_ wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s what made life interesting.”

“Of course _you_ would think so,” she muttered, looked down into those madly gleaming violet eyes. They drew closer until they blotted out the rest of the world, and she was being kissed again, Rider’s tongue hot and hungry in her mouth. A finger brushed the top of her breasts, covered the tip of her Master’s Degree. Moved down slowly.

Ayaka’s hand clamped down on his shoulders, shoved him away. “ _No._ Damn it, Sword Emperor, _wait your turn.”_

His smile was playful. “Don’t worry, Ayaka,” he murmured. His mouth brushed hers, tongue flicking over her lower lip. “I’ll leave you unmarked, all white and shining for Arthur.” One hand slid under her dress, under all those layers of silk and net and lace, caressed her thigh, her hip. “Unmarked,” he whispered, “but not untouched.” 

Her throat closed as his fingers slipped under the edge of her underwear. Heat stirred the curls between her legs, brushed her folds. Rider looked up at her with a smirk, his eyes dancing. “Ayaka, Ayaka, my lovely beast, my bride, the things we’re going to do once you’re mine completely-” His thumb moved over her nub, soft teasing circles, coaxing, pleasing, his touch so hot and sure and _good-_

She yanked her skirt up. Grabbed his hand. “Lucius Tiberius, you should be chained up and _beaten,”_ she snarled and drove her nails deep into his skin. 

The Emperor’s lips parted in rapture.“There’s my beast,” he sighed, and withdrawing his hand, placed it over hers. Warm wetness stuck to her skin. Her heart pounded in her ears. “The first sounds like it might be interesting. Maybe we can play a little once we have some free time.” He bent his head, touched her index and middle fingertips with his mouth. Took them in, sucked them, tongue caressing the pads of her fingers. She closed her eyes, felt her stomach drop, her thighs get hot. “The second...hmm, I’ll pass. For now.” His tongue traced the lines on her palm, licked the vein at her wrist, drew a path of fire over the thin skin of her forearm. “Though, sometimes I do think...” His eyes met hers, soft and oddly wistful. “That it would be nice if you were strong enough to fight me.”

“Why?” Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Why would you want me to fight you? Really fight you?”

Rider kissed the back of her hand. Nibbled at her fingertips. “Because, lovely, Arthur never really lets himself go, even when it would be natural. Oh, he gets all stern and righteous, and full of holy fire when he thinks evil’s involved. Brilliant and beautiful as the stars, and just as cold, just as distant. He’s never felt the song of conquest, never wanted to grind his opponents into bone-dust and blood. You, though.” His smile was sweetly conspiratorial. “My small beast, my Empress, my woman who wants to put her lovely white hands around my throat and choke a collar onto me. _You_ would never make it a clean fight. You’d see me and loathe me and try to burn me to the ground, and unlike Arthur, you’d _mean_ it.” He kissed her fiercely. “Can’t you see the two of us, snarled in battle, joy and hatred clotted together, dissolving into each other with each blow? Ah!” He shivered. “It’d be so good, lovely.”

She was shivering too, her breathing short and hard. Rider’s hands were very hot in hers. “You’re _crazy.”_

“Not crazy,” he said with a small, serene shrug. “I just know what I like...and I think you do too, though you won’t admit it.” His eyes were wicked. “Maybe once we’ve been together for a few centuries, you’ll loosen up.”

The ring hung heavy on her finger. “And maybe you’ll stop being a raving _beast,"_ she snapped.

Lucius Tiberius laughed so loudly she slapped a hand over his mouth, terrified that Arthur would hear. “Small chance of that!” he murmured and gently nipped her palm. “But, as much as I love our talks, let’s move on, darling wife. Time’s short. Now, if you don’t want me touching you-” One large hand curled around her ankle, slipped off her shoe. He kissed the underside of her foot, licked at her toes through the sheer silk of her stocking. Slipped her big toe in his mouth and sucked it, his tongue massaging her skin, his fingers caressing her heel.

She was trembling uncontrollably, wetness soaking through her underwear into her skirt. “D-Don’t-” 

He released her toes with a satisfied moan, slowly brought her foot to rest against the hardness between his thighs. Held it there as he throbbed and pulsed against her. “Why don’t you touch me instead?”

Black stars wheeled in her eyes. “Ri-Lucius Tiberius-” 

His face was full of blood, his eyes wide. Under her foot, he shifted, thickened, seemed to grow. “Touch me harder, say my name again,” he whispered and rubbed against her, putting his head down in her lap.

Her mouth was fire dry. Carefully, she drew her foot over him. It _was_ getting bigger as she touched it. Definitely bigger. She pushed against him a little more firmly, heard him moan. Rider spread his legs wider, rocked his hips into her, greedy, demanding. His hands gripped her skirts, his face hot against her thighs. If her dress wasn’t in the way, his mouth would be...there. Right between her legs. He licked his lips slowly, as if he knew what she was thinking, then placed a kiss where her thighs were clamped together. 

Ayaka shoved that hardness with her foot, not quite a kick, and he gasped. Satisfaction burned through her. She twisted her fingers into his hair, ground her heel into him and the Emperor groaned, his entire body twitching and shivering. Her fingers caressed the tender skin behind his ear, pinched his lobe, drew out another groan, louder this time. Sparks flew within her, made her glow. She left his ear and rested her other hand on his back. Worked him harshly with her foot. Sweat dampened the thin silk of his shirt, the hills of his spine rising and falling with his breathing. Panting. He was panting and shuddering as she dragged her foot over the full length of him, circled him, rubbed him with her toes, rough, pushing and pressing, punishing him as he moaned into her lap- 

“Yes, yes, yes, Gods, don’t stop, don’t, oh, my lovely, harder, more, my darling, more, more, _more-”_

His voice, breaking with need, raw and hoarse and incoherent. She pulled his hair a little harder, stroked the smooth hot skin of his cheek, his lips, found the spot that made him shiver most, and with her foot _thrust-_

_“Ayaka!”_

The wood of the seat split between his fingers. His back arched and then Lucius Tiberius went limp against her, his head buried in her skirts, his arms flung around her waist. 

Moisture under her sole, clinging and hot. She was shaking, soaking, soaking wet, her thighs burning, her cheeks burning. Arthur could be here any minute. He’d see. He’d know. This was supposed to be _his_ time, not the Emperor’s, and she couldn’t even blame him, it was all her fault, she’d...she’d...

...let go...

_He was asking for it,_ a voice whispered, a voice she didn’t recognize. _All you did was answer him. Nothing wrong with that. And it felt so good to give it to him, didn’t it?_

The Emperor was so still it frightened her. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped. “Are...are you all right?” Awkwardly, she touched his flushed, burning cheek, jumped when he turned his head, pressed her fingers to his lips.

He lifted shining eyes to her. “Never better.” Rider’s lips found hers, sweet and satisfied, his tongue languorous, loving. Slowly, he rose to his feet, arms braced on either side of her body, stretched. His shirt lifted, exposing muscle, pale skin, the start of a line of dark red hair. His black pants had a darker patch, right between his legs, and Ayaka couldn’t stop looking at it.

“Like what you see?” the Emperor murmured, catching her eye. “It’ll all be yours in a little while. Think on that.” A hand under her chin, a whisper in her ear. “Think about what I’m going to do to you once I have you in my bed. Think about me burying my face in your cunt and listening to you _scream._ Think about how hard we’re going to fuck. Like animals, like beasts.” A kiss, deep and wet and hungry. A moan slipped from her mouth. Another. Another. She finally yanked at his hair and he stopped, laughing. “My sweet darling. You’re kicking me out, aren’t you? I get the message.” 

She jerked a hand at the door, feeling wet and sweaty and furious. Screw seduction, she was going to murder him if he stayed one second more. Husband be damned. “Get moving, Lucius Tiberius,” she said, slow and heavy. _“Now.”_

Chuckling, he paused on the threshold to blow her a parting kiss. “See you soon, lovely. Remember to save your strength. You still have me to deal with, after all...and be gentle with Arthur. He’s had a rough night.”

Her shoe banged against the door a second after he had closed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. you know what's a pain? trying to find seventeen different ways to say "it felt really good and arthur HATED THAT" so you're not constantly repeating yourself. also, descriptions of orgasms.
> 
> jeez, rider, just let ayaka step on you already, you know you want it.
> 
> this comic is pretty much arthur & ayaka in a nutshell: https://ibb.co/jLeX7H
> 
> arthur & ayaka next, but don't be surprised if the next update is delayed because of the fgo counterfeit heroic spirits event. pirlepet needs mats.


	15. Chapter 15

Palmfuls of cold water between her legs. Scrubbing her foot with soap that smelled of wildflowers. Rinsing her underwear out in the sink. A spell for drying, another spell to whisk the sweat out of her dress. The roses in her hair had slipped down: she pushed them back into place, adjusted her hairpins. Her cheeks still burned. _Maybe he’ll think it’s from nerves,_ she thought, and hurried back into the bedroom.

This time, she sat on the bed. _Damn him, damn him, damn him._ When she got her hands on Rider again, she’d...he’d...well... “He’ll be _sorry,”_ she whispered. A rapid pulse against her fingers. Soft hair, snarled in both hands. His breath on her thighs, a hot mouth sucking at her fingers, her toes. _He wants beasts? I’ll give him **beasts.** Beasts enough to fill him for eternity._

Someone tapped gently at the door. Her heart immediately became a freight train. “Ayaka? Are you in there?”

“A-Arthur?” 

“Yes.” Of course, Arthur would have never come in without knocking first. _Though, it’s not like I could have stopped Lucius Tiberius._ “May I come in?”

She sprang to her feet, hands frantically smoothing down her skirts. Shoes back on, yes, hair in place, yes, everything neat and tidy and ready for him. “Y-Yes!”

Arthur stepped in, wearing a different suit than the one they’d been married in, lighter in color, the shirt a brighter blue. The scent of cedar soap drifted across the room. His golden hair was ruffled, but he otherwise looked normal, looked...

He saw her watching, gave her a tired smile. “Ayaka.”

She flew to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him soundly. He made a startled sound, almost a laugh, and kissed her back, his lips so warm and gentle she wanted to sob. Ayaka took his face between her hands, ran her fingers over his cheekbones, his jaw, his throat. Felt the prickle of stubble on his cheeks, stroked his ears, his hair. “Are you all right?” she whispered frantically between kisses. “Did he hurt you? What did he _do_? Argh, don’t answer that, why did I ask you? But, if he hurt you, I swear-” 

“Ayaka.” Now he _was_ laughing. “Yes, I’m all right. Truly.”

She pulled away, still cupping his face, and gave him a stern look. Stroked the line of his jaw with her thumbs, felt the tension hiding under that soft smile. “You don’t have to hide things from me,” she said, slowly. “I’m your wife now, remember? You didn’t look all right when you came in. You looked...exhausted.” _Be gentle with Arthur. He’s had a rough night._

His smile vanished. “He was...enthusiastic. As I knew he’d be. As I wanted him to be. The more he...exerted...himself with me, the less energy he would have for you. So I hope.” He stepped away, sank down on the bed without looking at her. “Don’t worry, Ayaka. It was...not as bad as I feared. Not at all unlike going into battle for the first time. Things can only get...easier, from here. It helps that, twisted as it is, his love for me is genuine, and that our compliance serves a far greater end than merely satisfying the Emperor’s lusts.” Arthur clasped his hands, rubbed one foot back and forth against the carpet, as if it itched. “If I have learned a single lesson from my life, it’s that one can get used to anything, given enough time. Lucius Tiberius will not be an exception.” His mouth twisted slightly. “The next time we...meet...will find _me_ far better armed.” He looked up at her then, his expression grave. “Hopefully your turn with him will be a gentler one. He claimed that he would fulfill any and all of my desires, so I asked him to be kind to you. Since he prides himself on being a man of his word-” 

The laugh that slid from her was hollow. “Yes, he’s definitely a man of his word. He was just here. After you two...finished...and before you arrived. Checking up on me. Worried that ‘I might be lonely.’”

_“What?”_

Ayaka sank down next to him on the bed. “He...didn’t do anything. Stole a few kisses. So, he did keep his word.” Her voice refused to rise from a mumble. “But...I...uh...might...have done some things to him.” She couldn’t look at Arthur. “I...got carried away.” It was hard to get her knees to her chest with such a full skirt, but she managed, and buried her crimson face against the rich material. “I wanted to get back at him, the bastard,” she whispered miserably. “But I...might have liked some of it, too.”

She felt his weight leave the bed. “Ayaka...” Hands enfolded hers, squeezed comfortingly. “Like I said, you shouldn’t be ashamed of feeling pleasure. It’s natural.”

 _Pleasure from pain?_ Ayaka shook her head. Felt Arthur lightly touch the crown of her hair. “It’s hard for me too. Not only must we lie with him, we have to reciprocate. In some ways-” He sighed. “It _would_ be easier if we could simply lie there and endure. However, if we are to hold him to his word, we must hold to ours as well. All we can do is trust that our sacrifice will be worth it. I swear to you that it will get easier with time.”

The blood in her cheeks flared like an inferno. _I...don’t think I want getting off on hurting Lucius Tiberius to get_ **easier...**

Her husband’s arms came around her, held her tight. “That we’re together is-to me-compensation enough, come whatever may,” he whispered. His lips were so soft against her ear. “If the world be torn apart tomorrow, we at least were given tonight. I love you. I will never stop loving you.”

Ayaka pulled him closer and closer, until there was no more space to move, and covered his face with kisses, touching every inch of his skin. “I know,” she said thickly. “Even if we ended up separated for a thousand-no, a _million_ years, I would never stop loving you either. I’d wait for you forever. Arthur, my king, my love, my _knight.”_

“Those words,” he said in a shaky voice, “are so much sweeter from your lips.”

She buried her face in the slender curve of his throat and inhaled. Leaves after rain. Clear water. Sunlight. Arthur nuzzled her ear. Kisses, gentle and tentative, were left along her cheek. She turned and caught his lips, held him fast. Honey-gold hair slid between her fingers. Slowly, she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, eased into the warmth inside his mouth.

Bright fire lit her from within. Arthur’s mouth was summer-hot and sweet beyond bearing, his tongue trembling against hers. Heat pressed like a hand between her thighs. She moaned, tried to move even closer, to meld with him, but flimsy silk and thin satin barred her as effectively as a steel wall.

Easy enough to fix. She took hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shoved the fabric down his arms and away, until it dropped off his body. Slipped buttons loose, touched his bare skin, brushed over his nipple gently as his heart throbbed against her palm. Worked at the knot of his tie, shredding the fine silk until it stood up in little tufts under her frantic fingers.

He moaned, and his trembling intensified.

Guilt swarmed her like a host of rats. _What am I thinking?_ She dropped her hands, sick and hot with shame and longing. _I can’t just rip his clothes off. I’m not Lucius Tiberius._

Their mouths broke apart, leaving hers wet and aching. Arthur leaned against her, panting. “Ayaka,” he whispered. His hand, his ringless hand, took hold of hers, twined their fingers. “My longed-for queen. I’m sorry.” Saber’s words reeled inside her like wine. “Despite my marriage to Gwenhwyfar, I don’t...I’m not...I have very little idea about what pleases a woman. So...please forgive my inevitable missteps, my mistakes.”

Ayaka felt as though clouds of fireflies were massing inside her. “It’s okay, Arthur. I don’t...have any experience either.” _Except for a few romance novels and a certain Emperor,_ she thought bitterly. “So, um...do you want to undress me?” Her breath caught on each word. “Or...do you want me to undress you?”

“I-I don’t know,” he whispered in return. His face, when she dared look, was a deep scarlet, his eyes staring blindly away. “All I know is that I want you to be comfortable, and happy.” He licked his lips, his hand shaking within hers. Or was she the one shaking? 

Her thumb rubbed the place where the ring was not on his hand. _I don’t know, can’t know what he went through. What Lucius Tiberius made him do. My Arthur._ The brilliant coal of her anger flared, sent diamond flashes through her blood. _But, I can try to take the sting away._

_He’s just as much mine as he is Lucius Tiberius’s._

Gently, she lifted his hand. Turned it over, took it between both of hers.

_I want to remind them both of that._

She’d never really looked at Arthur’s hands up close before. Long fingers lined with calluses, a rough palm. Nails cut almost to the quick. Thin white scars hatched his palm, the underside of his fingers, the fine, vulnerable skin of his wrist.

Lovingly, she laid her lips against his palm. Left a track of small, sweet kisses that spiraled out from the center, covering his entire hand-

“A-Ah...Ayaka.” His voice broke on her name. She glanced up at him, questioning. Arthur’s cheeks were fever-bright. Sweat darkened the hair on his temples, around his ears. “You shouldn’t...It isn’t right to lavish such attention on blood-soaked hands.” 

“No,” she said softly. “They’re the hands that protect me. The hands that saved the world. That will save the world, again and again.” She couldn’t say how she knew this, but she felt the certainty inside her, solid as her bones. Ayaka kissed his palm again. “My husband’s hands. That’s all that matters. Blood-covered or not, I love them.”

“Oh, Ayaka,” he whispered, and shut his eyes.

She licked him then, traced one scar with her tongue, then another. His skin was salt under her lips. Arthur let out a shuddering gasp, went perfectly still. Ayaka laid a cautious hand on his thigh, felt stone-hard muscle underneath. Gently, she stroked his leg, felt him knot up even further. _Maybe I should wait until later,_ she decided, and let him be. She moved to take a fingertip into her mouth, hesitated. Sucking fingers was a Lucius Tiberius thing. _But, if I avoided doing anything that he does, sex would be the two of us staring at each other and nothing else._

The rough whorls of his finger were sweetly exhilarating against her tongue. She drew him in deeper, until her mouth touched the root of his finger, then closed her lips around him with tender pressure, and sucked.

“ _Christ,_ Blessed Jesu, Mother Mary, _please,”_ Arthur groaned, and his entire body spasmed. Startled, she looked up. Arthur’s head was thrown back, the white column of his throat exposed, as a chain of words unlike anything she’d ever heard spilled from his lips. Welsh?

Fear snapped through her. “Arthur, are you all right? Am I hurting you?”

“Oh no. No, no, no, no,” he croaked, eyes on the ceiling. “No.”

“Then...is this something that _he_ did? Is that it?”

His gaze remained skyward. “Not...exactly.”

“Oh. Um. Okay, I...I hate asking this because I know it’s hard for you, but...” Fire licked at her heart. “If you show me what he did, I could try to make it...better.” _Try to take you back from him._

If Arthur’s blush became any brighter, he would be incandescent. “I-I don’t know if I could ask you to do such.” His tongue flicked over his lips, quick and nervous.

“Why? He didn’t do anything really...obscene, did he?”

“By modern standards or mine?” he said hoarsely. “I only know what I do because of the Grail, but no, by the customs of this time, his actions were not particularly...obscene.” Bitterness snagged his voice. “He split me like a ripe fig and upended much of what I thought I knew about myself. But that, apparently, does not count as obscenity.”

An icy fist punched her in the chest. “Arthur!”

He exhaled, deep and soft. “Beloved, I’m sorry. But you did ask.”

Rage flowed through her, of such size and weight she was faintly surprised the bed wasn’t burning merrily beneath them. “I’m going to beat him until these rooms run with his blood. Beat him for the rest of _eternity._ That bastard, bastard, _bastard._ ” Her fists clenched on the coverlet, so tight they began to go numb.

Warm arms around her. Lips on her forehead. “Ayaka. I’m fine. I _swear._ Please, calm down.” He hugged her, so tight it took her breath away. “Bad as this is, _it could be worse._ I don’t want you going to him ready to kill. Anger won’t help in our circumstances.”

“You don’t sound fine. And no matter what you say, I still want to hit him,” she muttered into his neck. Under her hands, the ridge of his spine, the stiff muscles of his shoulders and back. “I should be comforting you, not you me,” she said, much more softly. Her fingers drew little circles over his shoulder blades, trying to soothe. His breath hitched. “Arthur.”

“Yes?” he said, his voice strangely tense and low. 

The tiny flame of her courage wavered with her breath. “Before...you had to do a lot of things you didn’t really want to do. So now...I want...you to do whatever you want. Whatever feels good to you. Whether that means me doing things, or, um, you doing things-that’s up to you to decide.” A soft triangle of skin showed between his loosened tie and opened collar. She pressed her lips there, licked him tenderly. Felt his pulse jump, begin to race. “Please.”

She felt his groan through her entire body and trembled with it. “Ayaka.”

This time, the knot came out easily, despite her fingers shaking so badly she could barely move them. She slid the thin fabric from his throat, tossed it away. “Don’t worry. No matter what you do, you could never hurt me.” Her voice sank into a whisper. “Tell me what you want.”

Hands cupped her face, lifted her eyes to meet his. “I want,” he said, voice shaking, “to take my beloved Ayaka away from here. To a place meant only for the two of us, a sanctuary where no one else may tread. Where the Sword Emperor and other problems do not need to be thought of.” Arthur’s mouth was fierce and dry, his tongue so hot against hers. “That’s what I want.”

Tears rose, sudden and sharp. “Arthur...”

Careful fingers moved through her hair, pulled the diamond clip off. He tossed it away, untangled the roses more gently, set them down on the nightstand. Ayaka’s hair fell free, tickling her shoulders. Arthur stroked it smooth, placed each strand in order. Set his hands on her shoulders, large and warm and loving. His face was calm, almost stern around the eyes, as if he was mentally rehearsing a plan of battle. “Ayaka.”

Her heart thudded against her breastbone. “Yes?”

Gently, thoroughly, he kissed her tears away. Pressed his forehead to hers. The green of his eyes was the green of a forest at twilight. “I’m going to make love to you now,” he said quietly, his even voice belied by the twitch in his fingers. Arthur’s face became a white blur in the dim light. “If I do anything- _anything_ -that makes you feel uncomfortable or that causes you pain, say so immediately.”

She was being lowered, so gently, to the bed underneath. The heat of his body began to press on her, from shoulder to hip. Desire and panic scorched a path through her brain. The air in the room flickered like lightning. More tears fell, were caught by lips and tongue. Ayaka felt embarrassment tie a burning knot in her stomach and blinked hard. _Don’t start crying now, stupid, you’ll upset him and he’ll stop._

 _The last thing in the world I want is for him to stop._ “I will.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and then she felt his hands at the buttons on her dress.

She rose a little so he could more easily unfasten them. Funny how something so dumb and simple could make her feel like she was about to walk off of a cliff blindfolded and backwards. Tiny pearl buttons, so many of them: it had taken the dressing room women an age to close them and now Arthur had opened them all in the space of a few seconds. Funny. His rough fingertips gently touched her spine, registered that she wasn’t wearing a bra (the bodice was so tight and heavily boned it had been unnecessary), withdrew.

His hair was soft against her mouth as he kissed her throat, again and again. Soft as his lips. Lips that brushed over her collarbone, drifted over her shoulders, left tingling imprints of warmth over the very tops of her breasts. Her sleeves were a mass of silk roses: he slipped his hands inside, squeezed her upper arms reassuringly. She could feel sweat slowly gathering under the hand she had laid on his back.

More kisses against her throat. Here and there she thought she felt the tip of his tongue. She shifted, moaned a little, wanting his mouth back on hers, on her breasts, on all the places Lucius Tiberius had scored with his mouth. “Arthur.”

He stopped immediately, one hand halfway between her breast and her hip. The tip of his thumb was so close to the underside of her breast it almost seemed as if it was actually there, a small coal burning against her skin. “Is something bothering you?”

Thank God her eyes were already closed. “Not really. It’s just...it’s okay if you want to use your mouth a little harder on me. Mark me. I don’t want that to be something only Lucius Tiberius gets to do. I’m more yours than his.” All of her blood was in her head, her cheeks. Moisture slipped slowly down the inside of her thighs. “I want him to _see_ that. I want to see _you_ on my skin.”

Silence. “I’m...I’m afraid of hurting you,” he said, after a long moment. His voice sounded very...stiff. “And, to be frank-I don’t really know how.”

Ayaka opened her eyes then, saw Arthur’s tense, dark-flushed face, inches from hers. His eyes were looking somewhere across the room and a million miles away, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. She closed the slight gap between them with a kiss, very gently nipped his lip, sucked his tongue. “It’s not hard at all,” she whispered, feeling a surge of love so intense she could have happily drowned in it forever. “Here.” An easy movement and somehow he was underneath her, his shirt half unbuttoned, his pale skin gleaming in the soft lamplight. His eyes looked anxious and even a little wild. Trick of the light. It must be. “I’ll show you.”

The hollow of his throat was still a little damp from when she had licked him earlier. She pressed her lips there now, took his pulse with her kiss. Drew his skin between her teeth, so smooth and tender and hot. Sucked, gently at first, then harder, harder-

 _“Ayaka.”_ Arthur’s hips bucked with his moan, pressed him hard against her belly. Made her gasp. She was soaked now, her thighs slick and wet. His hands clutched at her body, rolled her off him and to the side. She heard fabric rip, felt cool air on her back, and then Arthur was pulling her dress down to her waist, beads scattering in a hundred directions.

“I’m sorry,” he said into her ear and then he was kissing her as she perched awkwardly on his lap, lips desperate and begging. His hand cupped her breast, gave it a tentative squeeze: she moaned against his mouth, gave him enough courage to circle her nipple with the callused tip of his finger. She couldn’t stop shivering. “Please, Arthur, you can’t hurt me, do what you want, I _want_ you to-” 

“Your breasts are so beautiful,” he whispered, and groaned. Now she was in _both_ his hands, so hot on her skin. His fingers stroked, massaged, touched every inch of her, very gently pinched a nipple. Rubbed small circles over the tight peak with his thumb. Wetness seeped into the silk underneath her as Arthur’s mouth moved against her neck, tongue mapping a burning path to the hollow of her throat. Ayaka whimpered into his hair. Felt the edge of his teeth catch at her skin, press down lightly. “Yes, _please,_ ” she moaned and urged his hand up her skirts.

Arthur’s body jerked, his teeth snapping down on her pulse, and she cried out, some pain, all pleasure. How could she have forgotten he was more than half dragon, with teeth so sharp? Lucius Tiberius had nothing on him.

He began to pull back, froze as she tightened her hand in his hair, kissed his face wildly. “Again. It’s a good pain,” she said into his ear and guided the hand down below through a hedge of lace and silk. “I want to go to him covered in you, inside and out.” A shudder like a small earthquake passed through his body. His mouth touched her throat again. Teeth, so gentle and sharp. Arthur left another mark, light but definite, and she moaned, her entire body feverish and trembling.

Arthur’s mouth came back to hers, kissed her fervently and a little bit anxiously. Teeth and tongue. Hesitant fingers touched her softly, a knuckle rubbing across wet silk, and then he lifted her with the outside hand. “Take it off,” he said, his voice ragged. “It’s a beautiful dress, you’re beautiful, but I can’t stand looking at you in his clothes any longer, take it _off_ ,” and he was pulling the dress off her hips to lay in crumpled folds around her. She knelt in the glittering mass, tugged off stockings; Arthur took them from her, threw them away, and then they both stopped dead, scarlet-flushed and nervously avoiding the other’s eyes.

Ayaka was the first to recover. “I don’t want you wearing his clothes either,” she said, still red-cheeked, and pounced. His shirt went easily but when she went for his belt the tented fabric between his legs checked her like a slap in the face. 

Arthur turned his head away, his breathing harsh.

Anxiety clawed at her spine. _That’s what you came here for, isn’t it?_ the same dark little voice from earlier whispered as she stared. _You had no problem touching Lucius Tiberius, right? Arthur’s yours. Let him know it._

Slowly, very slowly, she reached for his belt, her fingers cold and nerveless. The leather was as slippery as soap, kept sliding out of her grasp. Her husband’s fingers were clenched, white-knuckled, on the sheets, his mouth tightly closed. One notch gone. 

Two. Open.

She just needed to unbutton and unzip his pants now, that was all.

Easy enough but the damn button kept jumping out of her fingers. Sweat dripped between her breasts, streaked her thighs. She fumbled, Arthur moaned softly and then his fingers entwined with hers, taking everything apart. Her hand brushed over his erection, but her fingers were so numb with desire and fear she could barely feel it, or Arthur’s hand in hers.

Cloth rustled, went still. She darted a look at him out of the corner of her eye, saw him crouching on all fours just behind her. Arthur was a white and gold shape in the dim, one that moved and changed and spoke her name, but the buzzing in her ears was too loud to let her hear him.

Every molecule of blood in her body beat like a drum. Strong hands helped her back to the pillows. Cupped her face and kissed her, long and tender. Some of the haze began to clear away. “Arthur!” she gasped and kissed him back. “I’m sorry. I’m just-” 

“It’s all right,” he said, soft, reassuring. One hand tentatively stroked her thigh, very close to her hip, the edge of her underwear. She shivered and moved closer. Wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight. “Ayaka, what do you want?”

That was obvious. “Your hands and mouth, everywhere.” Arthur’s lips were soft and wet from all their kissing, his tongue bolder now, willing to spar. She coaxed him deep into her mouth, stroked him, let him suck on her carefully. Felt his erection twitch against her thigh, leave a small damp spot on one of the few dry places left. He broke away, laid one hand between her breasts, over her Master’s Degree. A bolt ran straight from his hand into her heart. “We don’t have much time,” he said, voice sober, and bent to take her nipple into his mouth.

Ayaka cradled his head as he sucked, slow and gentle. His tongue circled, made her flush right down to her bones. Sighing softly he let her go, laid a flurry of kisses over her skin, over her Master’s Degree. Pressed his lips to her other breast. She groaned and arched into his mouth, aching for the sting of teeth. “More, please,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his silky golden hair, giddy with need of him. “And-” She took his free hand, placed it between her legs. “Here.”

Arthur’s moan was muffled by her breast. His fingers unfolded slowly, nudged the silk aside. Brushed, very softly, over the wet heat waiting for him. Ayaka let out a strangled cry, dug her nails into his shoulders, trying to hold back the swell that rose inside her. He jerked, and then there was a pull and a yank and Arthur was shaking scraps of soaked silk off his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his eyes haunted, and ripped away the last clinging bits. Slid his fingers between her folds, touched her in nervous wonder. Caressed her gently. Ayaka rocked against his thumb, whimpering. “My Queen,” he whispered, “my Queen.” His hand trembled-no, his entire body trembled as he stroked her nub, rough and clumsy, but his touch sent sharp fires singing in her brain, overwhelming, it was enough, he was enough-

 _“Arthur!”_ and she burned to the ground, sobbing his name into his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” His voice had a frantic note. “Ayaka!” 

_“Yes,”_ she sobbed, “ _yes_ , please don’t stop, Arthur, come inside me, I need you-” 

He kissed her quietly as his fingers delicately sought entrance and found it. Ayaka gasped into his mouth as one long finger slipped in. A pause, then another, tender, rubbing softly, rocking her back and forth like a wave. Arthur gave a shuddering groan. His hand began to move faster. She arched her back, pushed him deeper inside her, moved with him. Thick bands of light coiled in the air around her. He was so deep now, and hitting that spot, that same spot that Lucius Tiberius had yanked such terrible pleasure from-

She came again, hard enough to split the earth, lay shivering with the aftershocks. 

Arthur touched her face and it felt like his heart was beating in his fingertips. Slowly, his body moved over hers, his green eyes wide and dark. “I swear, I’ll do my best not to hurt you-” 

“I told you, you can’t,” she whispered, still a little shaky from her orgasms, and spread her legs wide. Looked him in the eye, touched where she was dripping wet. Opened for him again. “I love you.”

“I hurt Gwenhwyfar,” he gasped. Strands of hair stuck to his temples, dark gold with sweat. “I didn’t mean to, but _still._ I’ve always wondered if that’s why she never warmed to me...”

 _Gwenhwyfar be damned,_ she thought and kissed him quiet. “It’s okay. Everything will be all right,” she told him and pulled him on top of her.

Arthur moaned in her ear, lay still for a moment. Then, he rose and heat, enormous as the sun, nudged against her, slid slowly inside, dragged a sharp, stretching pain along with it. Ayaka blinked back tears. “Don’t stop,” she whispered thickly, shifted to try and accommodate him better. Her legs came up around his waist, pulled him deeper. _He’s mine._ Ecstasy, soft and throbbing, was growing inside her despite the pain. She tightened her grip on him. Kissed his ear. “I love you,” she said again, and Arthur thrust into her with a groan.

She was burning, sweet fire consuming her as each careful roll of his hips sent her deeper into the flames. Arthur was shaking, their bodies so close Ayaka could swear she felt his heart beating in her own breast. Every thrust drew a moan from their lips. “Harder,” she begged, felt him twitch and throb inside her. “It’s all right. Please. I want us to come together.” Arthur’s breath hitched, and then he kissed her, hard and deep. _I’ll never let you go. I’ll protect you, Arthur Pendragon._ “Arthur,” she whispered, “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.”

“I can’t control myself when you call my name like that,” he gasped. Blood surged in his cheeks. His thrusts were getting faster, harder, sloppy and desperate. Arthur’s hand dropped between their joined bodies, his thumb seeking her nub. He found it, stroked it, sent bolts of lightning dancing up and down her body. “Please, Ayaka. I’m not going to last-”

“I don’t want control,” she slurred, tossed on the razor margin of pleasure-pain. Every fiber of her being was bent on his hand, his erection. An inferno wailed inside her, wanting to be free, to turn her entirely to ash. The light in the room was breaking up, diamond shards flying every which way. “I want _you._ All of you. I want you forever, my king, my knight, my _Arthur_ -” 

He shouted and let go, his hips slamming into hers, spilling himself. Tears dropped on her breasts as the flames leapt out of her with a roar, left her a breathless husk. Light, bright as the stars, poured into her body, mingled with her blood, her tears, patched her up, then laid her down gently in a field of radiant white.

 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Arthur asked for the millionth time as she lay against his heart, feeling warm and sore and strange, slightly embarrassed and very comfortable.

“Again, _yes,”_ she said, and kissed his chest. Nibbled on him a bit, both for the pleasure and to watch him flush. “I’m fine, Arthur. Better than fine, I’m spectacular.” She nestled against him, felt the odd glow inside her shift with her body. It was a little bit like the tingling feeling that came when her foot fell asleep. 

She wanted nothing more than to stay like this eternally, but the Sword Emperor’s face kept drifting before her eyes. Ayaka kissed Arthur one more time, in a feeble attempt to shoo the darkness out of her next words. “How much longer,” she asked, very quietly, “do you think we have?”

“Not long,” he replied, with a bitter twist of his mouth. “I expect a knock, and a soft-voiced lackey, any moment now.” Arthur stroked her arm, running his fingers up and down her skin like he was playing an instrument. In answer, she rubbed her foot softly against his. “Which is why I am trying to take comfort in these last few minutes spared to us.”

The stroking hand moved to her hair and she sighed. His heart beat was strong under her cheek. She listened, and thought of red silk. 

Red hair, twisted between her hands.

Ayaka drew a finger over his heart, very gently. “Arthur,” she began, and waited until he looked down at her. “Do you want...are you going to be all right staying in the room with us?” A bead of sweat dropped down her back. “Because, if it will...hurt too much...it’s okay with me if you don’t want to stay.”

“No,” he said immediately. “Painful as it will be, I want to be there, to see that you are not treated roughly. To ensure he keeps his word.” There was a hardness around his jaw, his mouth. “We will have to lay with him together in the end anyway, since he so desires it. Staying away will do nothing but prolong the agony. Best to get it over with.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. _Beard the lion in his den._ Something tickled at the back of her mind. “Arthur, didn’t you say that Lucius Tiberius vowed to fulfill all your desires?”

He gave her a curious look. “Apart from my desire that he keep his hands off the two of us,” he said dryly, “yes.”

The tickle was becoming an itch. “Well, when we go to him, what if you tell him that you desire him to lay down and do absolutely _nothing_ while I get on top and fuck him?”

 _“Ayaka!”_ he sputtered, but he was laughing. Painful sounding laughter, but laughter all the same. “Dearest,” he said, when his laughter had died down to a few hoarse chuckles, “I can’t see him reacting very favorably to that wish.”

 _I could,_ she thought, remembering how docilely he had lain in her lap. “But he did say _any and all,_ ” she argued. “And he can’t treat me roughly if he has to lie there like a stick.”

“If it angered him, he would find a way, somehow,” Arthur replied soberly. “As pleasant as the idea is, I don’t know if the risk is worth it-” 

His voice died away as she put her arms around him, held tight. Pressed a kiss to his forehead, his lips. “Let’s at least try,” she said. “If he seems upset, we can always back off.”

Arthur’s answering kiss was like dawn breaking over the world. For several long minutes, she was aware of nothing but her body, and blood, and Arthur’s breath mingling with hers.

The sound of the doorknob turning was so soft they almost missed it, but a betraying creak sent their eyes to the door just as Lucius Tiberius came in, grinning, unrepentant.

A jolt, not entirely fear, ran down her spine. To cover it, she snapped “Do you ever _knock_?” while Arthur made a sound not far off from a snarl and wound all the blankets around her.

“Of course not. This is my place. You’re mine,” he said, his eyes lingering on the few slivers of skin left bare by the blanket. “Nice try Arthur, but I’ve already seen, touched and kissed most of what you’re trying to hide.” He sauntered to Arthur’s side of the bed. Smiled down at them. “And I’m going to be doing a lot more than that very soon. So, give it a rest, why don’t you?”

Arthur grimaced, but didn’t let her go. “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice flat. “So desperate you couldn’t contain yourself any longer?”

The Emperor laughed, his cheeks flushing. “Touche, my heart. I dropped by because the moon is at its highest and your time is _up,_ my darlings. You’ve had your fun...quite a lot of it, it seems.” His voice became deeper, softer. “How pretty the two of you look right now, all rosy and satisfied. It makes me want to crawl right into bed between you. But-” he bent and stroked Arthur’s hair back from his forehead “-this isn’t the time or place.” Lucius Tiberius studied Arthur’s wary eyes for a moment; then, his fingers dropped to caress her husband’s cheek. “You look happier now, love. I’m glad,” he said, his voice ringing with sincerity, and kissed him.

Ayaka closed her eyes, felt anger begin to bubble again under its temporary crust. 

“Oh, my Ayaka. Jealous? Don’t be, lovely. I have a kiss for you as well.” A large, hot hand on her cheek and then Rider was kissing her, his tongue warm and teasing. Flame crackled through her, rage and desire both. She pulled away, breathless and glaring.

The Emperor smiled, slowly, ran a finger down her cheek. Took her chin in his hand. “It’s almost time for us to become one, my Empress,” he said softly. “Go and prepare yourself. Wear your red dress for me. You and me as one, and then all three of us. Eternal, without end.”

He touched the tip of her nose lightly. Rose, with another grin that included the both of them, walked away and let himself out. 

Even after the echo of his footsteps had died away, they didn’t move. They lay in silence, breathing harshly, gripping each other’s hands. Inside her body, a slow, bitter drip of fear, anger and lust began to collect and pool.

“I’m going to make him _crawl_ ,” she finally said, and shook the blankets off her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooh my gooooood, this fucking chapter. i have not been so blocked on something in a long, long time.
> 
> you know what? aside from the aforementioned trying to find new and interesting ways to describe arousal and orgasms seventeen different times a chapter, it's a lot damn easier to write sex between two people when one of them isn't repressed as fuck and at least one of them knows what they're doing!
> 
> thank god the next chapter is from lucius tiberius's pov because his filthy whore mind represses nothing. btw, this is pretty much his theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5aGmIIrx7k
> 
> repression, thy name is arthur. he is trying though, bless him. and i can't really blame the poor boy, he's been through some shit.
> 
> threesome next.


	16. Chapter 16

The wine spilled a bit as his nervous hands poured it, crimson drops staining the table’s fine wood. Lucius Tiberius laughed, shakily. What did wine matter? He was drunk on sheer rapture.

He took another breath of the flower-scented air to calm himself. Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited. The last few hours had been a endless chain of delight and now-

“The climax,” he whispered and nearly choked on his laughter.

They had to be almost ready now. _Better check._ He reached out once more and brushed over the surface of Arthur’s mind gently, his touch lighter than air. Love, balled up in anger and fear. Sorrow. 

Rider’s lips moved into a bitter grin. When the hell was Arthur going to understand? Without his influence, his love for Ayaka would have died unspoken. Now, thanks to his generosity, he was married to his precious dove, joined to her eternally--a miracle wrought by him. Didn’t that outweigh everything else?

_Show some gratitude, heart of mine. Am I **really** too high a price to pay for eternity?_

Resignation. They were coming to him.

Fourteen hundred years fell to ash before him and he trembled with the ecstasy of it.

A soft tap on the door pulled him back to himself. Hastily, he set the wine aside, brushed the folds of his _pallium_ straight, prodded his crown into place. Fires were leaping inside him, setting his blood all in roar. My husband, my bride, he thought, turning the unfamiliar words over and over in his mind as he went to the door. Felt the weight of them, and the sweetness. _My husband, my bride._

They came, hand in hand. Ayaka in her glittering red silk, Arthur in dark blue, both tight-lipped, and grim as if they were marching to their executions instead of the marriage bed. Rider bowed them inside, watched their wide eyes take in the rose and gold splendor he’d arranged for them, mute testimony to all he could provide. Satisfaction curled inside him like smoke. Solemnly, he kissed them, forehead, then lips. Arthur first, Ayaka second. That done, he gestured to the chairs-scarlet velvet, priceless antiques that had once seated other, lesser kings-that he’d arranged in a triangle. “Let’s have some wine first, shall we?”

The two of them exchanged a glance, their faces turning more stone-like with each passing second. Arthur was the first to speak. “We’d rather-” 

“-get this over with,” Ayaka finished, and scowled at him.

Lucius Tiberius laughed, not at all put off by their frowns or their chilly airs. “A coalition within my coalition. Ha!” Grinning, he took up his wine and sipped it. Savored the heat on his tongue. “I bow to the forces arrayed against me...but the two of you would really benefit if you simply took a moment to calm down. Relax. This is sex, not suicide.”

Arthur squeezed Ayaka’s hand, the movement so quick that if he’d hadn’t been watching every breath, every twitch, he would have missed it. They glanced at each other in silence. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could detect a touch of anxiety slipping in under their masks of disdain. 

“Arthur has-” 

“I have-” 

They stumbled to a stop, flushed and awkward, looking everywhere but at him.

Arthur cleared his throat. “ _I_ have a request. Since you vowed you would fulfill anything I asked-” 

Oh, they were so interesting, and so fun, and so wonderful, and so _his._ “Speak then, my heart.” He lifted his glass in salute. Little crimson lights danced within, miniature stars. “I’m all aflame to hear your desires.”

A faint rose stain was spreading over Ayaka’s white skin. He wanted to catch it with his tongue, follow it down over throat and breast and belly. Soft skin that reddened so beautifully under his mouth. Honey on his hands, sweet and clinging. “I want...you to do like you did before. Lay still and let me be in charge. Just for this time.” Ayaka’s voice was low and a little shaky but her eyes burned like heavenly fire. “I know I’m not very good at this, but I’ll try.” The tips of her teeth showed, just barely. “I’ll give as good as I’ve gotten.” A beast looked back at him from behind her eyes. His heart started to pound. “I swear.”

His dragon’s mouth was a thin cold line. “As Ayaka said, my wish is that when you lay together, you let her lead you. That you do _nothing_ without sanction from her. Every kiss, every caress, _everything_ -all must done with her explicit permission.” If his face and body became any more rigid, he’d pass for an exquisite statue. “If this is to be a relationship, then allow us free reign for a change.”

A vision sprang into his mind. Ayaka atop his still body, cold and silent, lips shut against her lust while Arthur looked on, content to see him humbled. He blinked, the image vanished and instead he found his Empress staring at him with angry determination in her eyes. 

Lucius Tiberius laughed, long and hard, until his chest began to ache. What else could he do? Were they truly so afraid that they needed him hobbled? He was completely prepared to make allowances for nervous virgins, but...They couldn’t trust him to properly make love to his own wife? The woman he had exalted above all others? Hadn’t Arthur not only survived, but had tasted pleasure beyond anything he had ever known? Did they think he wouldn’t provide the same for her?

Ayaka was _his_ now. Much more delicate than Arthur but no less fierce. He knew how to handle her, when she needed gentleness. He would never deliberately hurt her. _Beast I may be, but I’m not a mindless animal._ Why couldn’t they understand that? “ _Snap_ goes the collar!” A world, an _abyss_ of difference, between letting your wife play at domination while you enjoyed some private time together, and having it forced upon you while your husband watched.

Ayaka’s hand was trembling in Arthur’s. His anger...no, annoyance, it really wasn’t anger, of course it wasn’t--melted like ice. Gently, he took her free hand in his. Closed his fingers over her shaking ones. If this was what it took to soothe and make them happy, then so be it. He would indulge them, graciously. _My sweet darling. As if I would hurt you,_ he thought tenderly, and opened to her.

_Sure you want this, lovely? If you’re in charge, you might get carried away, just like before._ Ayaka’s color slowly drained away, her lips moving soundlessly. Her mind felt very different from Arthur’s: a flock of fluttering birds over the darkness below. Wings brushed him softly. _Going to let our husband meet the beast at last?_

“What it is?” Arthur asked. A touch of alarm had crept into his voice. He looked back and forth between them as Ayaka continued to stare at him, wax-white. “Ayaka?”

_Nothing much,_ he thought, spreading the link to Arthur. This time, he pushed deep inside him. Leaves rustling, a breeze scented with spring. _Just this._

He went very still. Then, crimson rose in a great flood over his face. “How long? How long have you been able to do this?”

“Not long. Since the wedding. It’s part of our bond, just like the link between Servant and Master,” he replied, wondering at his reaction. “Why-” 

“Were you watching, listening when Ayaka and I were together? Spying on us?” Arthur’s voice was raw with fury. “Were you, Sword Emperor?”

_“No!”_ he snapped. Something inside him ripped loose, very close to his heart. “How could you think that? I said I would give you privacy and I did. I never once touched your mind while the two of you were sleeping together. I keep my word...and besides, it’s incredibly fucking obvious when we’re inside each other’s heads, Arthur.” _Like now._ Arthur’s mind roiled against his like a storm-wracked sea. _Get it, love?_ “Even before the link was forged, I knew Ayaka was in my head the minute she slipped in earlier-” 

“I still don’t understand that,” she muttered.

He grinned at her, happy to break the tension. “Neither do I. It’s fate, I told you...but enough. The link doesn’t fully open until after we’ve had sex, by the way. For now, I have to be touching Ayaka to talk to her.” _Won’t it be nice to have constant privacy, lovely? We can chat without worrying about Arthur’s reactions._

She glared at him. _Anything you want to say, you can say in front of Arthur. I’m not going to hide anything from him._

_Really? So you’re fine with him hearing how gorgeous I think your tits are and how hard I want to fuck you? How sweet and tight your cunt feels? You moaning my name while you bite and scratch and torture me?_ Scarlet flames flared in her cheeks as she bit her lip. How badly he wanted to kiss the little dent her teeth made. Run his tongue over it. He told her as much and the flames grew brighter. _I’m not saying you need to keep secrets from him, lovely....but you might not want to share everything._

“If this...connection...was born upon our marriage and requires consummation to activate,” Arthur said slowly, oblivious to the small drama playing out before him, “why is it that Ayaka and I are unable to talk with each other?”

Ayaka started, her mind darting away from his. “You’re right, we still can’t use telepathy!”

“Because the seal on your Master-Servant link is still in place and that’s blocking this as well. It’ll come off in the morning, once you’re both safely mine.” _Until then, you’ll have to go through me._

“So, you don’t trust us together.” Arthur’s eyes were brilliant with anger. “Is that it?”

“You expect us to trust you without reserve, but you won’t do the same for us?” Ayaka snarled.

He shook with exasperation. “Yes. You got it. I don’t trust you. Every minute I look for another knife in my side. That’s exactly why I gave you all that time alone together...Look.” A sudden weariness dropped over him. “All I wanted was a gap and the chance to stand in it between you two for a little while. To have a triangle instead of a circle closed to me. I accept that circle. I don’t mind it as long as you’re with me, but...you can’t blame me for dreaming.” A crooked smile slipped over his mouth. “Or from taking an opportunity when it presented itself.”

Silence fell. Then, Ayaka turned and walked towards the bed, her skirts bunched in each fist.

“Let’s just do this, Lucius Tiberius,” she said over her shoulder. “Please.”

Arthur watched her go, anxiety in every line of his face. Rider felt an odd tightness begin to grow under his ribs. “Remember,” he said quietly, “what you’re buying with this. Peace, freedom, pleasure, safety. The world. An eternity together that would have otherwise been denied you. I know you don’t believe I can make the two of you happy, but I _will._ I swear.”

His husband looked at him, his eyes too bright. “Do you?” he murmured, and Lucius Tiberius heard the tremor underlying his words. The ache crept upwards, stretched cold fingers to his heart. “Then I pray that you live up to your promise.”

Rider watched as Arthur went to Ayaka, watched their heads bend together, one fair, one dark. Whispers passed between them, little swirls of breath in the scented air, and then they kissed as if they were about to be flung to opposite ends of the universe for the next ten thousand years.

_Melodramatic much?_ he thought to himself and snorted, very quietly, but the ache didn’t ease.

Ayaka had perched herself awkwardly on the edge of the bed, her dress spread around her like the dropped petals of a rose. As he got closer, she took a hard breath and drew herself up like a snake poised to strike, her eyes glittering with challenge.

He smiled, just a little. _What a better war this would be if we could run mad upon the battlefield freely,_ he thought to himself, and dropped to his knees before her. _Still, I’m going to make the best of this. Let the games begin._ Softly, he touched her hand. “Shall I take off my lady’s shoes?”

The fortress wavered. One foot drew up, as if she was going to hide it, and then she burst into him like water from a breaking dam. _Bastard!_

“Well? What _does_ my Empress want? I’m here to serve. Would you like me to undress you? Or would you prefer to undress me instead?” he said sweetly. “You wanted your beast on a leash and that’s what you got...so go on, my darling, and tell me what you desire.” _All your desires, no matter how filthy. Since we both have to restrain ourselves, let’s think of something good and dirty for next time, hmm? Maybe I’ll let you smack me around a bit after all._

_Shut up! Stop acting like I’m **you** , as if I like that kind of thing! I don’t!_ Rage cut through her thoughts like Florent through flesh. Oh, she was so lovely, with her high color, her breasts rising and falling with her quick breathing. _Sure about that? Besides, who said you had to like it? You just have to get off on it. That’s all._

“Is something the matter?”

Arthur’s voice, low and clear from the shadows. 

“Not really.” Ayaka’s burning eyes stared into his own. “But he’s going to get punched in the face if he keeps it up.”

Strands of Arthur’s hair struck gold in the light as he leaned forward, his face taut. “Lucius Tiberius-” 

It was a scolding, but he couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure that went through him as his beloved said his name. “Joking, just joking!” _Oh, my sweet darling, I love how easy you are to tease._ The look in her eyes was quickly becoming murderous. A thrill shot down his spine. Maybe, with a little push here and there, he could force her claws out. Really, she and Arthur badly needed to stop pretending that they weren’t beasts, that they didn’t have desires. Did they really think they could keep up the martyr act for eternity? The longer they repressed themselves, the worse it would be when they finally snapped. _Honestly, it’s what’s best for them both._

“Neither Ayaka nor myself are in the mood for jokes,” his dragon said flatly. “Kindly refrain.”

He tucked his grin away, did his best to turn his face solemn.“I’ll be good,” he said sweetly. _So good they’ll hear you in Kyoto, darling._

Ayaka’s hands shot forward, fingers flexed, as if she was about to grab him by the hair. Instead, she stopped, then softly touched the golden leaves that circled his brow. “Is it all right if I...” _What did Arthur just say?_

_That wasn’t a joke, lovely. It was a promise._ “You want to take it off?” he said, pleased with her quick thinking. “Sure, go ahead.”

She grimaced. Hesitant fingers took hold of his crown, lifted it off and away. He sighed a little as her hands brushed through his hair. “It’s very light,” she said, a look of slight surprise on her face. “And it also looks...old.” The mellow gold shone against her palms like the sun itself. “Is this what your Master used to summon you?”

“No. This.” He touched the gold and ruby stud in his left ear. “My Master and her husband have a bit of a...mania, let’s call it, for Rome and Roman antiques and it happened to be in their collection, so I reclaimed it. I wore that crown in life, but it was passed down from the Gods alone know how many Roman Emperors; it wasn’t exclusively mine.” Smiling, he slid the crown from her hands. Rising on one knee, he placed it atop her head, where it perched awkwardly on the roses woven through her hair. Ayaka went very still, but her gaze flicked upward, as if she was trying to see how it looked. “Much too big, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll have one made especially for you.”

“Huh?” Her lips parted, and Gods, he wanted so much to kiss her, take her soft mouth with his teeth and tongue. “A crown? For me?” A bright crimson spot shone in each cheek. “Why?”

Rider leaned forward, until his mouth was nearly against her ear. “Do you really not get the ‘Empress’ part of our deal?” he whispered, and watched with delight as she shivered. Ayaka smelled of sweat and powder and roses, sweet and heady. He took a deep breath, blew very lightly on the smooth white skin of her cheek. Her earlobe was right there, so tempting, just _begging_ to be bitten and sucked-

Hands pushed him back down. “Shoes! Rider, you were supposed to be taking off my shoes!” Ayaka’s voice was loud and rapid. She gripped the coverlet as if it was a substitute for his hair. One foot swung in front of his eyes. “Take off my shoes, and then take back your crown and please, _don’t do anything else_ until I tell you to. Okay?”

“Sure.” If it wasn’t for her well-hidden trembling, he’d have been a little annoyed by now. Swiftly, he took off the right shoe, then the left, placed them neatly aside. That done, he plucked the crown from her hair and set it down on the small table beside the bed, sat back on his heels and waited for his next move.

A minute or more passed in silence as Ayaka blinked down at him, apparently dumbstuck. _Something the matter?_ Had she been expecting lingering touches, sneaky caresses, his mouth on her adorable toes like before? _I’m doing just as my lady asked._ Had she and Arthur really not noticed the obvious downside to their scheme? Either she asked, out loud, for every lewd thing she wanted done to her, or she would be the naughty one kissing and fucking him while struggling to hold herself back before Arthur. He shook with silent laughter.

Her mouth moved bitterly. “Yes, you are,” she said out loud, and slid off the bed to stand next to him. “Go on, lay down,” she said softly and his pulse began to race.

“Let me remove my boots and outer clothing first: the _pallium’s_ complicated with pins. I don’t want you scratching yourself.” _Not when I can do that for you._

“Fine,” she said with a sneer and a toss of her head, but he could swear she seemed almost...relieved. Humming, he pulled off his boots, unpinned the _pallium,_ dropped his coat over one of the chairs. Every gesture was a sweet reminder of earlier: was Arthur also remembering their own joining as he watched from the shadows? Joy spun giddily through him. _Mine, mine, they’re both forever mine,_ he sang to himself as he stretched out on the bed. _My other half and his heart, together with me, eternally._

There was a soft movement to his side and then Arthur, jacket removed, collar loosened, was lying next to him, one arm tight around his shoulders. The other hand entwined with his. “Behave yourself,” his dragon said, his eyes the deep chill green of the sea, and kissed him.

Bolts of pleasure ripped through him, even though he knew damn well Arthur wasn’t kissing him out of genuine desire. Lucius Tiberius moaned softly at the heat of his mouth, the fierce thrust of his tongue. _Someday, you’ll be doing this because you want to, my love,_ he thought to him. _Arthur, I love you so...but it’s Ayaka’s turn now, heart of mine._ Grinning, he pulled away, kissed his cheek and throat tenderly. _Let her have a taste of the bliss you’re so well acquainted with, hmm?_

_That’s what I’m afraid of,_ he returned grimly and images and feelings flashed from him like lightning: pain and desire, anger and fear. Ecstasy beyond bearing, coupled with grief. Startlement, and Arthur’s mind flew from his. _“Fuck,”_ his husband said in Latin, very quietly, and Lucius Tiberius realized he’d seen things never meant to be seen.

Ayaka still stood at the side of the bed, her face turned away, but not enough to hide the sorrow thinning her mouth.

Softly, he kissed the top of that bent golden head, sent love and reassurance into the storm twisting inside Arthur’s mind. _Don’t worry, love. Ayaka’s a strong woman. She’s your heart, how could she be otherwise? She’ll take whatever I throw at her and return it to me tenfold._ The bed shook and he glanced up to see Ayaka climbing in. One small hand took hold of his ankle, as if she was testing him, her fingers like bright coals against his skin. Then she came forward and sank down on top of him, her skirts billowing around her like great crimson clouds.

Rider bit his lip. _Oh._ She was sitting almost directly on top of his cock, with only millimeters of thin silk separating their bodies. Thin silk separating her breasts from his mouth, from being sucked and licked and bitten and teased and loved. Ayaka leaned forward, her face flushed, eyes gleaming. Carefully, she cupped his cheek. “You’d like to be kissed at least once, right?” she murmured and pressed her mouth to his.

He opened for her immediately, his tongue yielding to hers. _Take me._ Ayaka’s tongue pushed at his and he caught a flicker of irritated lust. _Darling._ He sent her images of past kisses, of teeth and battle. She whimpered a little, her nails pressing lightly into his skin. He turned his head, made her nails sink deeper. _You’re holding back because of Arthur, I know. I wouldn’t though, if I was in your place._ Her teeth nipped the edge of his tongue and he moaned. _Fuck me hard darling, that’s all I ask._

_Be quiet,_ she retorted, but her thoughts lacked their earlier heat. _I’ll...I’ll do what I want. That’s what you do, anyway._

He smirked against her lips. _Oh? And what do you want to do, lovely?_

She pulled away, panting, her soft skin nearly as red as her dress. “Take you _apart_ ,” she snarled and ripped at the collar of his tunic.

Arthur’s fingers clenched in his.

Rider gave a little moan, shivering with delight as she worked at the fabric, exposing him. Her hands, small and hot, left trails of fire all up and down his chest and belly. _That’s right, you’ve never seen me, my darling. What do you think? Worse than Arthur? Better? Do I please you?_ Gods, his cock was so hard, she had to know, the way her cunt was pressed up against him so tightly and oh, she was already wet, he could _feel_ it and then she moved a little, rubbing him, that had to be deliberate, _you delicious little **tease-**_

“You have a lot of scars,” Ayaka said slowly. Her eyes had darkened as she looked him over, seeing the furrows and ridges, the discolored skin, all the marks that shouted of his victories. She bit her lip and then a finger softly traced the thick white line that crossed his heart, made him shiver. “This isn’t...”

“From Excalibur?” he replied, catching the drift of her thoughts. “No, sweetheart. Near-total immolation doesn’t leave scars. Not enough skin left for that, usually.” He looked at Arthur and smirked, but the gesture felt a little off, as if his mouth wasn’t working quite right. Odd. “Besides, Servants are usually summoned at their most perfect stage in life...present company excepted.”

His husband made a small sound, something close to pain, but not exactly like. Lucius Tiberius turned his head and kissed him, soft, yet fierce. “You think I didn’t notice the mark left by your son’s killing blow? It’s faint, but obvious when you look. Almost as if it’s a kind of placeholder...creepy, isn’t it? Such an ugly and unfitting death for someone like you. You, who should have been highest in all the world.” A hot sharp feeling began to fill his throat and chest. “If you had to die, you should have died along with me on our battlefield, instead of the gruesome end waiting for you in the mud of Camlann-” 

A shaking hand slammed down on his chest, then moved, just as quickly, to his throat and _squeezed._ “Shut up,” Ayaka whispered, her voice breaking. “Just shut up, shut _up-_ ” 

Arthur’s hand yanked free from his and then they were pulling Ayaka away from his throat to hold her tight, stroking her, murmuring soothing words into her hair, trailing kisses over hot, tear-streaked skin. “Oh, my darling, I didn’t mean to upset you-” 

“Please don’t cry over something already ordained and long in the past. I love you. I’m here now and that’s what counts-” 

“If he hadn’t died, you would have never met. Think about that, lovely.”

“...Yes. Good springs forth from evil very often, Ayaka. Take comfort in that, as I have, so many times.”

She lay quiet in the circle of their arms, her eyes closed. Minutes passed. Then, she shuddered and sighed. Sat up and wiped her face with the backs of both hands. She and Arthur exchanged a long look; then he settled back down and took hold of Rider’s hand again, his grip almost crushingly painful. Quietly, he endured it, endured the kiss Ayaka gave Arthur, her mouth lingering on his. When they broke apart their eyes were grave, and heavy with longing. 

Inside Lucius Tiberius something small and barbed grew and strengthened. 

“All right, Lucius Tiberius,” she said, turning back to him, her eyes lit with grim determination. Ayaka’s mouth came down on his, harsh and punishing, everything he wanted from her, everything he craved. She tasted of tears. 

Unasked, he put his arm around her, stroked her back gently. _Sweetheart, don’t cry. We’re all going to be together forever once this is done. Death won’t matter anymore. We’ll have killed it, destroyed it with our love._ He pressed her closer and closer, until her breasts rubbed against his bare chest, nipples hard under that flimsy silk. Sweet fire rushed through him. Ayaka moaned softly, bit at his lips, sucked at his tongue. As she moved, one breast slipped free from its scanty covering so they lay skin to skin, silken heat over his heart. Rider groaned, felt his cock twitch and thicken, begging for her. Under his hand, her heart beat frantically, but she didn’t tell him to let go. 

“Then let’s finish this,” she whispered. Her lips were so soft against his. “Let’s get on with eternity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another chapter sliced in half because of guilt and length. the words, they just keep growing.
> 
> i'm a little surprised that no one picked up on the earlier hints that rider was reading arthur and ayaka's minds, but that might have been me being too subtle, lol. it's not like there were a lot of them (if you don't feel like looking for them, one was when arthur/lucius tiberius were having sex, the other when he sidled in to see ayaka afterwards.)
> 
> in this chapter: angst. also, more evidence that lucius tiberius is really not as cool with arthur & ayaka's relationship or that arthur killed him as he thinks he is. he's really incredibly emotionally immature but being told you're a god and getting your way for most of you life will do that to you.
> 
> marvel at lucius tiberius's complete inability to apologize or admit that he's wrong! he gonna get his next time though.


	17. Chapter 17

Rider lifted the chain of rubies that crossed her back with a finger. Touched the roses at her throat. “May I?”

Hesitation; then she swallowed and nodded.

The chain broke with the slightest of tugs, sent gems cascading to the silk below. Carefully, he pulled the clasp free from her throat, then snapped it off and hurled it to the other side of the room. The bodice fell to her waist, leaving her bare and lovely before his eyes. Ayaka’s hands moved automatically to cover her breasts, then dropped to press hard on his heart, her mouth twisting into a nervous scowl.

With the rose necklace gone the marks on her pretty throat stood out clearly. He touched one softly, rubbed it a little with his thumb. “Well. Didn’t know you had it in you, Arthur. Finally let the beast out to breathe, hmm?”

His husband was silent but Lucius Tiberius saw the flash of anger that crossed his face out of the corner of his eye.

_I asked him to do that._ Ayaka’s voice crackled through his mind with impatient fury. _Arthur’s not the biting type and you know it._

_And we are._ The sight of her naked breasts, so white and full, scant inches from his mouth, was driving him mad. _So you won’t mind if I nibble on you here and there, will you, darling?_ Slowly, he brought his free hand to her left breast, traced its soft curve with a finger. Her nipple was already flushed and taut, begging for his mouth. _Though we’ll have to save the good stuff for later, when we’re alone._

Her skin was hot as a forge under his hand. _Did I say you could do that?_ Ayaka was biting her lip again, her eyes burning blue. The hand on his chest clenched, nails digging in, and his cock twitched happily against wet silk.

_Pardon me. May I touch my lady’s lovely breasts? Kiss them? Bite and suck them, as I did to your very great enjoyment earlier? I’m dying here._

_I wish you would,_ she thought waspishly, but he both saw and felt the shiver that went through her body. She leaned forward slowly, until the tip of her breast just barely brushed his mouth, and snarled her fingers in his hair.

Pleasure racked him, stole his breath. _Harder, darling._ Mindful of Arthur’s eyes, he kissed her nipple gently, flicked his tongue over the tight peak, once, twice. Circled it, until her skin was wet and gleaming. She whimpered, squirming a little as he cupped her breast in his palm, rubbing it lightly. Lucius Tiberius moved his hand so his nails were on Arthur’s blind side, pressed them into her soft skin. Small red crescents sprang up, and Ayaka let out a shuddering moan. _Sometimes, lovely, I think you’re the one who wants to be taken apart,_ he thought, and drew her nipple into his mouth.

Ayaka’s mind was a tumult of steel brambles, thorns catching at him every which way. _Why can’t you ever shut up?_ Her nails were cutting into his scalp, sweet fiery pain dancing up and down his body. If she pushed his head any further into her breast, he’d be smothered. _And what a beautiful way to die._ Arthur’s fingers were very tight in his as he tenderly stroked the underside of her breast, eased more of it into his mouth, teased her nipple with the very tip of his tongue. _I’ll shut up when you both get honest with me and not a minute before,_ he replied and bit down delicately. Slowly, he increased the pressure, until her back arched and she moaned, her voice thick and trembling. Gods, how he wanted to draw blood, just a drop, not enough to hurt or scare her, only taste her as he had Arthur-

“Lucius Tiberius. What did I ask of you?”

Oh, his dragon was angry. “I’m not-” 

“It’s all right.” Ayaka, rosy with blushes, stretched out a hand to their husband, stroked his cheek. “He’s...not hurting me.” Loving fingers brushed gold strands away from his eyes. Trailed down to touch his lips. “Please, Arthur. Don’t worry about me,” she murmured and kissed him suddenly, her fingers tight in his hair.

Arthur shook off his hand, wrapped his arm around Ayaka like he meant to pull her free of him, deepened the kiss. Love shone from both their minds.

Rider gently traced Ayaka’s spine with a fingertip, drew lines over the narrow wings of her shoulder blades. Stroked circles on her back. Her heart beat like a bird’s with each pass of his fingers but they showed no sign of stopping, no sign of letting go.

“Lovely,” he murmured, the soul of patience, “I know just how sweet Arthur’s mouth is, but you’ve already had your time with him.” _Greedy, aren’t we, love? Trying to keep Ayaka all for yourself when it’s my turn to enjoy her. You’ll have her again in a bit. Wait._ Arthur’s mind wavered, a tendril of unease unfurling in a mind drugged with honey. Rider reached out, played with a strand of Ayaka’s hair, watched it gleam in the lamplight. Stroked the underside of her jaw, felt her swallow, hard. “I’m starting to feel neglected...Don’t you think I deserve some kisses too?”

She finally broke away and looked back at him, her eyes narrowed. “I can think of a few other things you deserve instead of a kiss.”

“Nevertheless,” he replied, keeping his voice low and soft, “I’d like one. Or more.”

Anxiety was leaping from Arthur like sparks from a bonfire. He rose, half-turned, a plea in his eyes. “Ayaka, you shouldn’t-” His mind finished the sentence his mouth couldn’t. _Provoke him. Antagonize him. Make him angry._ Again and again, the idea that he’d hurt her, that he couldn’t be trusted...

He bent, took his husband’s lips with his own. _Don’t be so jumpy, love. It’s all part of the game we play, Ayaka and I. She knows what she’s doing._ His grumbling bride was sitting upright now, wet warmth soaking into him, as she shifted, just a bit, pressing down on his erection and he groaned into Arthur’s mouth. _See what a tease she is? Little fiend._

Ayaka’s small hand cut roughly between them, grabbed his chin. “You’re complaining that I’m not kissing you and then you’re all over Arthur.” Her thumb dragged over his lower lip, stopped in the center. Rubbed back and forth as if she was trying to erase the touch of Arthur’s mouth from his. Lucius Tiberius smiled at her, flicked his tongue over her thumb. “May I?” he asked. Without waiting for approval, he closed his lips over the tip of her thumb, sucked it lightly.

A faint shiver. A weary sigh. “Go ahead,” she grumbled. Slowly her thumb moved deeper into his mouth.

Small fingers, sweet skin. Rider hummed in pleasure, guided her hand to his face. Slipped another finger into his mouth, curled his tongue around it. Sucked them both slowly, tip to palm, made a little show of what he could do with his mouth. _Think about this, between your legs._ Ayaka rocked a little, whimpered. Her breasts were rubbing against his chest again, her nipple brushing against his. Lucius Tiberius drew her fingers from his mouth, dripping wet, pressed them to his cheek. He turned to nuzzle them, kiss her palm, and suddenly he was looking down at Ayaka’s body, hands split and ruined, flung into the gravel of the roof. 

Bone shards and blood. Torn muscle laid open to the sky. Aniketos shaking his head in wonder. _It is a marvel, a marvel that there was anything left to save at all--_

Hands shook him. Whole hands, not broken, shaking him in time with the pounding of his heart. “What’s the matter?” They were looking down at him, faces smudged with confusion. “Lucius Tiberius?”

They didn’t know, hadn’t seen. Hadn’t looked. “Nothing,” he muttered. His tongue felt thick and sour, too large for his mouth. “Goose walking in my tomb. Nothing to be concerned about.” _She’s fine, she’s safe, she’s unharmed._ Carefully, he lifted her hand out from Arthur’s, brought it back to his cheek. Rubbed his face against her. Skin like silk, fine bones, the warmth of blood beating in intact veins. _I will never let you be hurt like that again,_ he thought to himself and kissed her hand tenderly, cradling it in his.

Ayaka’s eyes were soft with unease. “Goose walking in your tomb?” she echoed, her brows knitting together in half-hearted irritation. Her fingers touched his cheek, not quite a caress. “What?”

Rider grinned up at her. _It’s over, it’s past, she’s fine now, I’ll make it up to her, I swear. I’ll protect her._ “It’s a silly little figure of speech, don’t worry about it. Now-” he took up her other hand, kissed it softly as well, “Don’t you owe me a kiss or five?”

Ayaka’s mouth curled. She leaned forward and kissed his lips, hot and quick, one-two-three-four-five. Wicked light shone in her eyes. “There!”

Laughter burst from him like rain from thunderheads. “Darling, you’re incredible! Incorrigible.” He cupped the back of her head and gave her a proper kiss, teasing her tongue, nipping her lip. Gloried in the heat of her mouth against his. “I still haven’t finished _here,_ either, you know.” Her right breast, poor neglected thing, filled his palm perfectly, as if designed expressly for his hand. _Which it was. Fate decreed you for me, Ayaka Sajyou, and don’t you forget it._ Slowly, his thumb circled her nipple, so tight and eager for him. She sighed, took firm hold of his hair again, and guided her breast into his mouth. 

He groaned in utter contentment, eyes fluttering shut. _Gods, how I love big tits. Yours are really fantastic darling, do you understand that? I could suck them for the rest of forever and never get tired._

The _umm_ that slipped into his mind was half-annoyed, half-embarrassed. Ayaka’s face was pressed into his hair, using him as cover and shield as he suckled the sweet flesh so willingly given to him. The way her warm breath fanned against his scalp was almost unbearably arousing. _Getting a little too excited, sweetheart? Going to come just from having your tits sucked? My lewd darling._ His free hand quietly slid under her skirt, touched the back of her thigh. Slowly, he moved higher, felt soft wet skin that shivered violently against his fingertips. _Want some help?_

A bolt of anger flew out and pierced him. _Do you always have to be so disgustingly explicit, Rider?_

_One of us has to be. You and Arthur dance like mad around your desires, afraid to let even a hint of lust break from your masks. Don’t worry._ His teeth closed again, but no gentleness now, just a quick sharp bite that made her yelp, jab her nails into his scalp. Another, to the right of her nipple. A third, to the left. Her moan broke against the top of his head. _I’ll soon have you both trained out of that._

Arthur’s hand clamped down on his arm. “Must you? Again?”

Ayaka pulled back a little, gasping, but she didn’t take her breast from his mouth, and oh, the picture she made, tousle-haired, flushed and panting, her breast wet and pink with love bites, her legs spread wide on either side of him. “It’s okay, Arthur. I can handle anything he can come up with.”

Rider raised her hand, kissed it softly. _Is that a challenge, lovely? Mmmm, you and me, sparring in bed, testing your limits? Gods, are you trying to make me come right now?_ He lifted his hips slightly, rubbed against her, slow strokes across the wet heat of her cunt. A soft gasp escaped her and then she was biting down on her lip again, her hand working deeper into his hair. She was soaking wet, his cock was soaking wet and if he got any harder he was going to explode. Easy, easy, he thought to himself. _There’s so much left, don’t skip ahead now._

She looked at him, then pulled away suddenly and rose. Moved down his body, towards his hips. Her skirts rustled as she went, light as new leaves. Ayaka sank down next to his waist, put an unsteady hand to his breeches and began to open them.

_Darling-_

Arthur made a soft sound of dismay besides him.

Fumbling, she pulled at the laces, loosened the waist, began to pull them down. He spread his legs for her, raised his hips to help her get them off. As soon as his cock came free Ayaka went inferno red, then dead white, then red again and stopped moving completely.

Lucius Tiberius couldn’t help but grin at those wide eyes, those trembling lips. Blood pulsed in him as if he’d grown a million hearts between now and when she’d first moved to strip him. “Do I exceed your expectations?” he murmured, touched her motionless hand. “Better than you thought? But, be careful darling. I’m all fired up, as you can probably tell. So, be gentle with me...or else I’ll break.”

Ayaka didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on his cock, on the white drops that clung to the head, left wet trails down his shaft. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, deep enough that he saw crimson start to well, and then she was reaching out with shaking fingers to touch.

He groaned, bit down hard on his own lip, hoping to turn pain into a distraction. _I really can’t take much more of this, darling. I’m serious._ Small fingers touched his shaft, brushing against his skin like a spirit, but even this slight touch was enough to make bolts of heat explode deep in his belly. _Fuck. Ayaka._ Bolder now, she stroked a cautious finger just under the head, made him twitch. Pleasure tightened its screws. _Fuck fuck fuck._ He was dripping, those softly hesitant little fingers exquisite, maddening-

She stopped and rubbed sticky fingers together, a curious look on her face. Slowly, she raised one to her mouth.

“Don’t, Ayaka. It’s bitter,” Arthur said, and shone bright red when they both looked at him. His shirt was half-open, his pale skin ghostly in the dim light. As they watched, he pulled it open and off with a kind of embarrassed defiance, then sat down next to Ayaka as their bride stared at him, her face blank with confusion. “You’ll have to endure him soon enough as it is. You don’t need to do this as well.” His dragon wrapped a firm hand around his cock and _squeezed_ , his eyes so dark they seemed to reject all the light in the room, and Lucius Tiberius moaned loud enough to crack the sky. _Fuck, they really are going to kill me!_ “So let me-” 

“No! It’s all right, you’ve already done your part,” Ayaka protested. Her hands pulled at Arthur’s, tried to move his away. “Please, I can handle him-” 

Every scrap of strength in his body was bent on not spilling himself into their warring hands. “You can’t shield her forever, love,” he gasped. Ecstasy was tearing through him, fire through dry wood. “Ayaka needs to learn-” 

“Together then,” Arthur said and kissed Ayaka like they were the only two people left in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE SEX SCENE, A WHOLE LOTTA PARTS: THE CONTINUING.
> 
> let's see, there's still...*counts* 6 more scenes left in this "chapter", plus journey to the west event going on (COME HOME YOU SEXY RED HAIRED SPEAR NUT) so have another part of what was originally supposed to be one chapter.
> 
> btw, we still haven't gotten to the part yet where you might actually feel bad for lucius tiberius, but the screws are slowly tightening. oh yes, they are tightening...


	18. Chapter 18

Rider bit his lip. Closed his eyes. Arthur’s hand squeezing his shaft. Ayaka’s hand cradling his balls. What more could he possibly want?

_And yet..._

“You...know...what would be nice?” he murmured. Oh Gods, how his bones ached with need of them. “One of you sucking me off.”

Arthur’s hand tensed. “Lucius Tiberius. Did we not agree-" ah, he was pushing his thumb in, right over the vein, trying to break him, _fuck, love, you’re not subtle at all_ "-that you were to be the passive partner this time around?”

“Just a suggestion. Nothing...more...than that.” His darling’s palm was damp and hot, rocking him as she breathed. “Odd...though.” His words were stumbling from his mouth like lame men. “You both want to _get this over with_ so badly, but you’re...mmm...dragging it out instead.” 

A short sharp breath. “Very well, then,” his dragon said, his voice sour. Lucius Tiberius felt the bed shift as he moved. Felt his hot breath against the head of his cock, his rough fingers around the base. Need and excitement drummed through him and he let out a low sigh.

“ _No._ Arthur, _please._ ” The blissful warmth vanished and he opened his eyes just in time to see Ayaka block Arthur with a frantic kiss. “It’s my turn now. I’ll take care of him. You’ve done enough already.” She pushed him away, took hold of Rider with both of her hands. Looked up at Arthur with watery, defiant eyes. _“Please.”_

Arthur’s face was drawn and white. “I...Ayaka...”

“As much as I enjoy the two of you fighting over me, _enough._ Obey your wife and Master, love, and give way,” Lucius Tiberius said softly. “Let her take her turn, learn to please me. Just as you did.”

His husband was silent, one hand curled in a fist. “Very well,” he said finally. Arthur’s voice was so low and ragged, so utterly unlike him that Rider and Ayaka found themselves sharing a quick, nervous glance. “However-” In one swift motion he swung to sit over Rider’s hips, completely blocking his view of everything below his waist. From on high Arthur looked down at Lucius Tiberius, eyes like charred emeralds. “We will do things _this_ way.”

Rider smiled up at him. His beautiful dragon, all steel and sharp-edged golden light. “Even if I can’t see her, I can still feel her, you know,” he reminded him gently. “But if it makes you feel better, I don’t mind.”

“Quite,” Arthur said and shut his lips tight.

Behind the adamant wall, his invisible bride was moving. A finger dabbed at his cock, a little shock of pleasure. A pause, then a muffled sound of distaste. “You’ll get used to it,” he said kindly and smiled again at Arthur’s lightning-bolt glare.

“Um. Okay. Okay.” Her hands left, the bed creaking as she adjusted herself. “I...I just put you in my mouth and k-kiss you, right? And lick? That’s all, right?”

“You know how I sucked on your fingers? Just like that,” he replied and watched, astonished, as Arthur turned a brilliant, flaming red while Ayaka said “Oh!” in a tone of sudden understanding.

 _Interesting!_ “Don’t try to be a hero like Arthur and swallow me whole, though. It didn’t end well for him-”

_“Must you?”_

He patted Arthur’s thigh. “Like I said, you can’t shield her forever, love.”

“All right!” Ayaka snapped. “Enough. Okay...Okay then. Here I go, but...I’m not going to be very good. I’m warning you.” Under the chill in her voice was a tiny, tremulous note of fear. When she touched him again, her fingers were shaking.

He reached a hand out to her, even if she couldn’t see it. Stroked Arthur’s rigid arm in place of hers. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. This isn’t the best part, so I don’t mind. Just having you try is enough,” he said, and shut his eyes as her warm breath drifted against the head of his cock.

Lips, very light against him. Ayaka paused. The barest flick of her tongue. _More, darling, just a little more._ Hesitation and anxiety were dripping from her mind but she licked him again, a little harder this time. Rider sighed. Wished he could touch her, tangle her hair in his fingers, show her what to do. _Harder. Just a touch._ As his mind met hers, Ayaka drew away from him, went still. Just as Lucius Tiberius started to wonder if she was going to call the whole thing off, her soft mouth began to suck and lap at his straining erection.

Pleasure burst within him. _“Yes,”_ he groaned, ignoring Arthur’s killing stare. “More, darling, exactly like that-”

Her mouth suddenly closed around his cock, eased him partway down her throat. For one perfect moment she sucked hard. Let him go. Her tongue darted over him, small careful licks, wonderful agony. Lights sped past his eyes. Without thinking, he grabbed at Arthur’s hands, clutched them tight in his and his dragon toppled forward with a shout, landing warm and heavy on his chest. “Didn’t mean to!” he gasped into the silky golden hair against his cheek. “Truly!”

Startled, Ayaka looked up, her brilliant blue eyes meeting his. Eyes like diamonds, reflecting all the light. Slowly, she leaned forward. Nails bit into his thighs, the base of his cock. Carefully, she dragged her tongue across the head, stroked it back and forth, keeping his gaze all the while.

Fire clawed through his belly, poured through his skin. A garbled shout that might have been her name tore from his throat. Through his noise came a sound somewhere below him, a small choked cry. His husband disappeared.

Ayaka still knelt by his cock, lips parted, eyes dazed. Splatters of his seed adorned her, white upon white. Arthur, his own face stricken, was pulling the sheet free to wipe gently at the pearly stain by her mouth.

Life and speech returned to him. “Don’t, love. I’ll take of care of her.” He took up his own corner, dabbed at her face and throat. A few drops shimmered in her hair. Under their hands, Ayaka sat motionless, but her eyes followed his every movement. Rider smiled at her, kissed the corner of her mouth. Tasted sweat, copper, earth. _Hmmm. Never sampled myself before. I wonder-_

She made a muffled sound as his tongue darted, licked at throat and breast. Unpleasantly acrid, not like Arthur’s, but it was worth it to hear her stifled whimpers, touch her skin. He cleaned a smudge off her nipple, kissed it again just for the joy of it. _You’re clean now, darling, time to move on,_ he thought and nudging Arthur aside, laid her down against the pillows, made her comfortable. Stole a kiss, then pushed silk and net to her waist, just long enough for him to duck underneath and spread her legs wide.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Her hands made frantic grabs at him through fifty layers of skirt. One small foot knocked against his shoulder. “Lucius Tiberius!” Arthur’s voice and hers, jumpy as hares.

“Sparing you from pain.” Truth be told, she was probably wet enough to take him as she was, but he’d be damned if he let this chance pass. “It hurt when Arthur took you, right?”

“That’s...that’s none of your business!”

Rider grinned. Gently, he rubbed his cheek against the tender skin of her inner thigh. Pressed a kiss there. Ayaka twitched, let out a little moan. “Well, darling, Arthur’s big, but I’m worse. Ask him how I felt.” A sound very much like a growl rippled through his mind. _Hah! Was that from him or her?_ That’s why-” he reached out, very gently flicked a fingertip over soaking wet silk, “I’m going to make sure you’re prepared.”

Silence. He smiled, danced his fingers over white, wet skin, and waited.

“Do it quick,” she muttered finally. 

Sparks cascaded down his spine. Once more his lips touched her thigh, a shadow of a kiss. Ayaka’s scent tickled him; a tangle of flowers, nervous sweat, honey waiting for his tongue. “Oh, my darling. This isn’t something to be rushed. It’s something to be savored.” Silk broke apart under his fingers as her hips jerked, bringing her closer to him. _Stupid to wear these at all,_ he thought and tore the last clinging shreds away. Spread her legs wider for him, inhaled. Exhaled. Rose pink, dark silky curls, soaked and sweet. Desire twisted like a knife in his gut, made him moan low against her thigh. _I’ve been waiting for this all night._ “Beautiful, how very beautiful you are,” he murmured and touched her clit with the very tip of his tongue, light as air. _Arthur didn’t treat you to this, did he, lovely? No, I don’t think he did._

_Shut up...shut up and just do it..._

_Do what?_ Rider turned his head and gently, teasingly, kissed her thighs, lapped up the honey that streaked them. Left a tiny bead of a love-bite on that smooth white skin. _Fuck you? Eat you? Both?_ He bit again, deeper this time, and his bride’s whimpered moan wrapped a band of fire around his cock. _Mmm, seems like you want me to feast,_ he thought, and left off his torment to bury his face in soft wet heat. _In that case, time to eat you up, my darling._

Salt and sweet, a little bitterness. Arthur’s seed, mixed with her honey. _Gods, you’re wet, you’re so fucking wet for me. Sucking my cock made you feel so good, didn’t it? Admit it._ Ayaka was shivering violently, her hips almost twisting out of his grip. A million burning needles piled into him, shame and embarrassment a hot dark scratching in his brain. _Don’t be afraid. Don’t be ashamed. Come all over me again, even harder this time. Drown me. Let it all go. Be a beast with me, shameless and filthy._ The softest of kisses pressed to her clitoris and she yelped as if he had bitten her. _No, that comes later,_ he thought to himself, and grinning, kissed her again, harder this time. Pointed his tongue, flicked it at her entrance, felt her flinch. Dragged it up, a slow slide over her entire cunt, honey coating every inch of his tongue and Ayaka was moaning behind tight lips. _You’re mine now, precious darling empress and I’m going to show you **exactly** what that means._

“Ayaka,” Arthur whispered. Movement above, the sound of soft desperate kissing. A groan from his dragon, a whimper from his wife. _Trying to distract yourself with Arthur, lovely? I won’t let you get away with that._ Long slow licks with a tight swirl over her clit. Biting softly at her folds, gradually increasing the pressure until rose deepened to red and Ayaka cried out, her voice thin and needy. Gentle sucking to take the sting away, tender kisses of apology. One finger, slipped inside. Two, her walls contracting around him like she was trying to break bones. She was panting now, her heels kicking at him frantically. _Sweet, so sweet,_ he thought and took her clit into his mouth, sucked it, slow and loving.

_Want to play a game, darling? See how long you can last without moving or making a sound?_

_Shut...shut...up..._

Her hands groped for him, just above his head. Laughing, he reached up, guided her to his hair. Wound her fingers in tight. _There, sweet. Pull._

Ayaka’s grip was weak, her fingers trembling. _Oh? Where’s my beast gone?_ Rider let go of her clit, drew a circle around it with his tongue. Moved his fingers slowly, not even touching her weak spot yet, shallow teasing thrusts. Her shaking intensified. _So close to orgasm you can’t even react, hmm? I didn’t think you’d be this easy._

A yank, a feeble one. Grinning, he nipped her folds again, pulled at them lightly with lips and teeth. Alternated between them, all the while working his way higher, until-

Teeth met on that tender bud in a short sharp bite. Nails ripped into him, fingers furiously twisted his hair, a sweet, startled shout. Her back arched like a bow, shoved his face in deeper, made Rider groan in ecstasy as honey flooded his mouth, smeared his cheeks and chin. _So good, you’re so good, my darling._ Slowly, he began to clean her, tongue hunting down every drop, carefully going over her entire cunt, her soft wet thighs. He sucked the last clinging drops off her clit, kissed her belly. Smiled against her in the dark. Bliss foamed and crested within him, a singing sea of delight. _And this is just the beginning._

“What?” Ayaka whispered. Her voice was throaty and dazed, her entire body twitching and trembling. “I...more...why?”

“Surely,” Arthur said, and there was hoarse anger underlying his words, “that was enough-” 

Lucius Tiberius shook his head in gentle negation, even though neither of them could see it. “No. Not enough, love. If you want intercourse to be as easy as possible, Ayaka needs to relax. Get used to me a little more.” _You took my cock so nicely, but Ayaka is a different story._ Ignoring the grumble of fear and anger emanating from his husband, he curled the fingers still inside her, pressed up against her sure spot. Ayaka sucked down a breath. _You’ve done so well with two fingers, but what about a third?_

 _Of course I can take it._ Snaps of anger like fireworks in his mind. _I can take anything from you._

“I know you can,” he said and eased the third finger inside her.

_Open for me._

A soft gasp and then a shudder went through her, made his own body tremble. Tight, so tight around him. Gently, he moved back and forth, stretching her, teasing her. _Good, lovely, you’re doing just fine._ She shifted a little, rocked her hips, then jerked to a stop, her muscles tightening. _Did you like that a little too much, Ayaka?_ What was that she had said earlier? _My father always told me I wasn’t good enough._ Rider grinned, leaned forward to nuzzle her clit. _Well, I believe in giving praise when it’s due,_ he thought to himself, and began to kiss her softly.

His bride’s breath was coming in harsh little pants as he sucked and stroked her, alternating between teeth and tongue as it pleased him. _Sweeter than honey, better than wine, that’s what you are, my darling._ His hand was drenched, his mouth slick, and Ayaka’s whimpers were like a hand clamped around his cock. Her fingers were snarled in his hair, both hands now, pulling him against her, making him hers. _Gonna come again?_ he thought, lazily rubbing her g-spot with the pad of a finger. Slowly, delicately, he pressed the edge of his nail into her and she jerked as if she’d been slapped, her moans helpless and greedy. He increased the pressure, brought another finger to rub, while he sucked her clit, laving the little bud with his tongue. _Your hips are twitching...mmm, don’t hold back, don’t hold back._

 _I **hate** you._ Anger whipped inside him, a dark sea surging. Hands yanked at his hair. A drop of blood snaked its slow way down his neck. _Hate you, hate you, hate you._

Lucius Tiberius smiled. Laid his free hand over hers, tucked his fingers in between those clutching, grasping ones. _And I like you, like you, like you. Hate me all you want, love me if you please, just stay with me forever. That’s all I ask._

An image came to him, of bitten lips, eyes shut tight. Arthur’s feverish hand on her arm. Gold hair against her cheek. Lips on her forehead. Ayaka’s groans burned low in her throat as Rider’s lips moved against her softly. First a grin, then a kiss. His fingers rocked her, swift and certain. _Ayaka. Come._

She gasped. Moaned. Tried to twist away from him, her hips lifting, hands cutting bloody crescents under his hair. Desperation clawed him. She was going to come, harder, so much harder than before, it was rising inside her like a conflagration, a great weight forming, she needed to scream, she couldn’t _...Arthur..._

He stroked her hand, slipped affection and comfort into her mind. Kissed her gently. I _t’s all right, Ayaka. Pour your screams into me. I’ll take them all and Arthur will never know. Our secret, just the two of us._

_Ohhhh-_

She was moving with his hand now, squirming, pushing back against him, her mind a blank of jangling stars. _I can’t-_

 _“Ayaka,”_ and Arthur’s hand shoved away silk and lace, touched his head, tried to come between them.

Annoyance shot through him. “How many times do I have to show you that _pleasure doesn’t kill?”_ Without slowing or stopping, Rider caught his wrist, bit the soft inner skin, sucked the tips of his fingers. “You’re still alive.” He spread Arthur’s hand wide over Ayaka’s cunt, parting his fingers over her clit. Held him there, let his dragon feel how much their wife _wanted_ him. “Like or it not, we’re all going to be one. Completely together, nothing withheld.” Arthur’s hand spasmed while their bride moaned, low and raw, her hips jerking. 

His tongue flicked over her clit, over Arthur’s skin. Traced a wet arc across the web of Arthur’s hand, curled gently against her, caressing, and they cried out in one voice. Lucius Tiberius crooked his fingers, pressed them up into soft hot flesh. Rubbed her, harder and faster, his mouth on her clit, lips and tongue, slow steady pressure. _Show me how brave you are, let yourself go. Come. Come for me. My empress, my beast, my dove, my darling, my Ayaka-_

Screams curled through his mind as she bucked, hips arching completely off the bed. Sweetness drenched him, filled his mouth, every pore on his skin and Lucius Tiberius slid under the deluge with a moan, smiling.

The waves receded. Left him, face wet, eyes shut, atop Ayaka’s thighs, dreamily sucking his fingers clean, listening to the thunder of her heart. Arthur had vanished. Slowly, he backed out from under her skirts, flushed, aching, full of affection. Went to her, knelt clumsily at her side.

Arthur and Ayaka lay tight in each other’s arms. Cheek to cheek, hand in hand, eyes closed. Ayaka’s head was thrown back, her breathing slow and harsh. Softly, he touched the cheek not occupied by Arthur. Smoothed sweat-soaked hair off her brow. “Oh, my darling,” he murmured and kissed her closed eyes, her cheek, nose, lips, throat. His dragon twitched, began to open his eyes. “Don’t go away from me just yet.” _You were good, so very good, you did so well. I’m proud of you._ More kisses, all over her face, each one tender and pleased. One fierce blue eye cracked open and glared at him.

Arthur raised his head slightly and looked at him, his eyes black under his heavy lashes.

“You,” she began and stopped. A hand came up and shoved at him weakly, snagged in his hair. Rider caught it, kissed the satin skin of her forearm. “Yes, lovely?”

Her eye closed again and she took a deep, heaving breath. “Don’t think,” she muttered, “that I’m going to let you get away with that again.”

Arthur’s gaze softened his grin, made it less wicked. _Sure about that?_ he thought to himself, and kissed her with solemn glee. “We’ll take things more slowly moving forward. I promise. For now-” Silk rustled under his hands as he took hold of the sodden heap crumpled around her waist, pulled it down and off. “Let’s get rid of this.”

Both of them moved then, started to speak. Stopped when they saw the look on his face. Very gently, he traced the pale pink gouges that marched over each hip, up her sides. “What did this to you, Ayaka?”

Her mouth twisted. “Lancer’s dogs,” she said quietly. Her hand suddenly rose to her heart, dropped just as quickly. “When he came after me, before I summoned Saber. They...they bit me.” 

_Panic. Stumbling through her home, hounds baying at her heels. Unprotected, bitten and bleeding. Lancer’s spear tearing her heart._ His wife, harried like a hare, a little bit of nothing to be discarded on Lancer’s way to the _real_ fight. Rage, pure and brutal, sliced through him. “And I’m _not_ allowed to kill him? Not allowed to gut the bastard who attempted the life of my Empress?” 

A spark leapt in Ayaka’s eyes. “Stop reading my mind! Besides, I wasn’t your Empress then-” 

He laughed until his ribs ached. “You’ve been mine since you were born, Ayaka. Fate made you for me, just as it did Arthur. It just took me longer to realize it.” They were staring at him, eyes thick with alarm. “Oh, don’t say it, it’s all over your faces. Until this War is over, I won’t kill him, or his Master. But,” his grin spread, wide and furious, “torture isn’t death. It can be drawn out for a long, long time. And once the Grail is ours, they _die.”_

 _No! Lucius Tiberius, you musn’t!_ Arthur plowed into him with a kind of panicky horror. _Lancer’s Master is...please._ His eyes were bright with supplication. _Not now. Let’s talk about this later, in private._

 _Mercy for the filth that nearly murdered our wife? I think not. How can you?_ Something nagged at him though, some kernel of speech from earlier in the day. His mind flipped back, over Arthur, over Ayaka, over information painstakingly gathered. Reiroukan. Misaya. A woman a little older than Ayaka, another child of a former Master from the last war. They had been loose allies with the Sajyou family, an association that had been dropped upon the deaths of the family heads. Arthur, a breath away from vanishing, leaving an unconscious Ayaka at the doorstep of a nearby mage family _...Ah._

She was looking back and forth between them, her face white and faintly angry. “Can we drop this?” A shudder passed through her. “I don’t want to think about Lancer, or...or anything right now, except getting this over with.”

Rider put his arm around her, drew her close. “You’re right, it’s not a very suitable topic for our wedding night, is it? So, let’s get back to more important things. Like us becoming one.” Her mouth, soft and trembling, tongue hot against his. Gently, he guided her to the pillows, stroked her thighs, opened them a little. Laid his palm against her cunt. So wet still, needy for him. “Ready, sweetheart?”

She sprang up as if struck, twisting off the bed. “No! I mean...not like this. I’m...I’m going to take you up on your earlier offer.” Ayaka rocked back and forth, both arms wrapped tight around her body. “Lie down, Lucius Tiberius. I want to be on top.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” he murmured, not really surprised. _My beast is biting back._ “Sure about that? It’s not the easiest position for someone who’s one fuck away from being a virgin and my size-” 

“You didn’t care about that _before,”_ she broke in, eyes narrow, lip curled. She was still shifting from foot to foot, a staccato dance of nerves. “So I don’t know why you’re objecting now.”

“Exactly. That was _before,”_ he replied impatiently. “I didn’t know you then.” Though, _didn’t care_ was probably a better way to put it, if he was being honest with himself. “Now...” No longer a mouse, but the key to Arthur’s heart, his small fierce beast, his bride, precious and coveted. Was her worth so invisible to her? Did she truly think he would have given his hand and crown to just any woman? _So much, so very much to learn._

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he finished and sat back on the bed, lay against the pillows. Arthur was silent and tense at his side. “But if you insist...”

“I do,” she snapped and shaking, climbed back on top of him.


	19. Chapter 19

*NOTE*

guess what! this is actually the rest of chapter 18! however, ao3 wouldn't bump the fic to show that the chapter had been massively updated, so i had to post it as a separate chapter. once the real chapter 19 is done, this part will be added back into chapter 18 and chapter 19 will take it's place.

now, back to the smut.

*END NOTE*

She sat for a moment, studying his cock, teeth worrying at her lip. One small hand reached out tentatively, took hold of the base. He made an encouraging noise as heat swarmed within him. A drop of sweat rolled between her breasts. Carefully, she raised herself on her knees, moved so she was directly over him, and with a face like a stone carving, began to sink down.

Arthur moved then, in the gap between one breath and the next, to kneel behind her. She turned to meet him, gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s all right.” Arthur’s hands engulfed her shoulders, his forehead touching hers. The tip of him began to slip inside her and Lucius Tiberius groaned, fighting the urge to push himself up. “I love you.”

“I know.” He kissed Ayaka then, deep and hard, so full of love for someone who wasn’t him, and the barbed thing wrapped entirely around his heart.

Neither of them noticed. They were kissing with a sort of calm desperation while Ayaka took him within herself, inch by inch. He closed his eyes, blocked out everything but the sensation of his wife joining with him. Unbelievable heat, soft delicious wetness. Not Arthur, no, nothing could ever be as divine as the feeling of him, that first coupling, but this too was bliss, the gorgeous ecstasy of becoming one with his heart’s delight... 

Pain, and a choked off whimper. Rider opened his eyes, saw Ayaka’s face contort as she eased down the last inch, her hands coming to clench on his abdomen while Arthur supported her from behind. “Ah..mmmm...” She gritted her teeth, hands sliding forward, and then she was laying on top of him, her mind buzzing with pain.

_Oh, my beautiful, stubborn beast._ Lucius Tiberius wrapped his arms tightly around her body, reminded again of how small and fragile she was compared to Arthur. _I don’t want to say I told you so, but...I told you so._ He poured soothing and reassurance into her mind. Rubbed slow, gentle circles up and down her back and sides. She groaned quietly into his ear, pressed her face down into his neck. Something wet fell against his skin. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’ll be all right, my darling.” She was tensing around him, her muscles trying desperately to accommodate his cock. Pain bled from her mind to his. He held her tighter, kissed sweat-soaked hair. “Relax. Don’t move until you think you can. It’s all right. I can wait.” Ayaka’s heart was beating in time with his under the mantle of their skins. “Soon the pain will fade, leaving nothing but pleasure.” _I’ll make you feel so good, lovely. I promise._

Arthur knelt besides them, his shaking hand resting in the space between Lucius Tiberius’s arms. “Ayaka, do you have a spell you could use?” he asked, his voice noticeably strained. “Something to take the pain away?” _You will **not** do **anything** until we are certain that you are not hurting her,_ he added, fierce as Excalibur, and another spike jabbed him.

_By all the Gods, I’m **not** an animal,_ he responded, trying to keep the snarl out of his mind. _Why can’t you trust me?_ Aloud, he said: “I knew this wasn’t a good idea, lovely. If you don’t have a spell, I could call one of my mages, get them to bring something-” 

“No.” Ayaka was struggling up, her movements pain and pleasure all in one, and Lucius Tiberius gritted his teeth. She took a deep breath and braced herself, thighs tight, hands over his heart. Slowly, she sat upright, her body gleaming with sweat. “I-I can fix this. I should have done something before, s-stupid of me.” Her right hand shone, twilight fire at her fingertips. She darted him a glance through half-lidded eyes, said: “This might feel weird, sorry,” and pressed cold blue light to the place where they were joined.

The light glittered like ice but it was heat that filled them, swam into their blood. Ayaka gasped. Lucius Tiberius groaned. Warmth unfolded like a flower and then she moved, a small cautious rocking that made them both pant. Her faithful shadow said something low in her ear, then slipped behind her again, his arms enveloping her, his green eyes watchful over her white shoulder. 

Rider reached up, took both her hands in his before Arthur could claim them, entwined their fingers. _Good, lovely?_ Ayaka pursed her lips and scowled at him, but she was starting to set a rhythm, a gentle back-and-forth that was sweet, slow torture and he let himself moan softly. So hot, every inch of his cock caressed and held tight. He was in the same place Arthur had been just a little while ago, going to spill himself deep into her womb, mix his seed with Arthur’s, fill her overflowing...Lucky Ayaka, to hold them both inside like this.

Her movements were becoming a little faster, a little more confident but it all still lacked something. Gods, how he wanted to hold her down. Kiss her. Feel her underneath him, their bodies so close they would be one as he thrust, driving deep into her, Ayaka whimpering deliciously into his ear. He rolled his hips up a little, careful, careful, brought their joined hands to stroke her clit. _Do you touch yourself, Ayaka? Want to show me what you like? Though I think I have a pretty good idea already._ Their knuckles rubbed slowly over tender wet skin, small loving circles, until she groaned and pulled their hands away. 

Ayaka’s eyes were black sapphires, searing him. She shifted slightly, mouth turned in a grimace. Muscles tensed, brought her full weight down on him. Pushed her forward, quick, awkward and hard. _Oh._ Her fingers gripped his as she swayed, his beautiful Empress joining with him, his cock throbbing in time with the sharp uneasy thrust of her hips-- _yes, yes, darling, fuck me, **yes**_ \--and Arthur watching all the while, his eyes as dark as a new moon night.

Rider’s head fell back, blue fire spinning behind his eyes. Ecstasy started to climb up his bones, make a meal of him. “You know, love,” he murmured, “if you were a bit bolder, we could all become one right here. You wouldn’t even have to move much.” 

“What?” Arthur said, blinking, the dragon vanishing into the confused virgin. “What do you mean?” Ayaka glanced at Arthur, then away, her face deep crimson, but there was a flash in her eyes, a softness to her mouth that told Lucius Tiberius his darling was more than a little intrigued by the idea. A moment later, Arthur got it and _That’s obscene!_ blazed across his mind, each letter ten feet tall.

“Not obscene,” he said between gasps. Ayaka was riding him for all he was worth, his vicious little Empress out to claim her pound of flesh and oh, he was in _heaven._ “Not any more obscene than me with you. A lot of women like it.” _Want to give it a try sometime, lovely? I’d be exceptionally gentle, make you feel so good._

“Quiet,” she snapped, but her breath hitched in the middle of the word, broke it in two. She swallowed, eyes on his face and bore down as if she really wanted him, as if they were in love, while his beloved dragon held her shoulders and whispered prayers into her ear.

He released her hands, took hold of her hips. Raised his own, tugged her forward a little until his cock rested against her weak spot. “You’re not going to come like that, Ayaka. Here.” A short sharp thrust up made Ayaka whimper and claw at his belly, her cunt contracting around him like a ring of steel. He smiled at her. Did it again, more slowly and they moaned, their voices overlapping. _Better, isn’t it? Now you sound like you’re having fun._ Gentle thrusts, slowly moving faster and harder, Ayaka so tight around him, moaning, shameless. The sweetness of her cunt leaving him breathless, her cries getting louder, _Come together with me, darling, let’s be completely as one._ His cock twitching eagerly inside her, so close, so close-

Ayaka snarled, her eyes wild. Her slender body stiffened, head flung high like the empress she was, and then she _squeezed_ him hard enough to snap.

Lightning went straight through his brain. A cry so loud it could shatter the stars was rising against his breastbone, splitting him like a chrysalis. Ripples of blue and white light pulsed in his head and then he was flooding into her, filling her, moaning his throat raw.

Ayaka’s face hung before him, brilliant as the sun. The air was dancing. Words flew from his lips. _I shall heap garlands upon you, I shall adorn you with gems._ Was he speaking or merely dreaming? A membrane tore and their minds fell together, one soul in two bodies, lightning and shadow, one just like him and Arthur, and at Arthur’s name something stumbled back from him and snapped shut. There was emptiness where Ayaka’s warmth should be. Why? _Ayaka? Where are you? Come back._ He reached out, seeking...

She was sitting at the very end of the bed, her body half in darkness, as Arthur stroked her hair. Lucius Tiberius rose unsteadily. Rubbed a hand over his eyes. His head felt as if it were packed with fiery clouds. So many of the candles were clumps of wax, their flames long out. Had that much time passed? Was that why the room had turned so cold? 

Neither Arthur nor Ayaka looked at him or spoke as he sat down beside them. Her mind, which should have been so open to him, which should have been one with his, was instead a roaring inferno, flames leaping out at him whenever he drew close. Rider grimaced. Why? Why shut him out _now,_ of all times? _It’s much too late for this, lovely. Like it or not, we are eternally **one,**_ he thought into the blaze and watched every word vanish into smoke as soon as it left him. 

Frustration snapped in his chest. He touched Ayaka’s shoulder, coaxed her to turn towards him. Burning cheeks, hard eyes. “What?”

Softly, he drew a finger down the line of her jaw. Lightly kissed the place where throat and ear met. “Are you all right, Ayaka?”

She closed her eyes, turned her face away, towards Arthur. “Fine.”

“Good.” Her cheek was hot and wet under his lips. “I’m proud of you, darling. You did so beautifully,” he whispered. “But-” 

One eye opened slightly. “What?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You didn’t come,” he said cheerfully. “That’s not right.”

She wriggled as he slipped a hand between her legs. Touched where she was slick with him, let his seed soak into his fingers. “I did, so much already! It’s all right-” 

His dragon’s hand cut across his. “Lucius Tiberius-” 

“No. It’s not fair that Ayaka did all the work and didn’t get the pleasure,” he said and pulled Ayaka into his lap. _If pleasure is the only thing you like about me, darling, then I’ll smother you with it._ Lucius Tiberius kissed her, hungry and hard, slid the tip of a finger inside her, teasing. Withdrew, stroked his thumb up and down her folds, pinched her clit. _Were you afraid, lovely? Is that why you broke me? It’s all right. Later on we’ll have a good hard fuck, just the two of us, and I’ll gladly teach you how.to scream for me._ Her tongue fought with his as he rubbed her, rough and careless. A little more pressure, a twist of his thumb, and his darling broke apart, her moans disappearing inside him, her body trembling against his. Satisfied, Rider kissed her flushed cheeks, the grim line of her jaw. Set her down besides Arthur, who immediately threw his arms around her and glared at him. “Save it, love,” he said with a laugh, and kissed him fondly. “Instead, think about getting ready for the best part.” 

“Can you not wait a few minutes?” Arthur said, his face grey as rain. “Ayaka-” 

“Sure, we’ll wait. We all need some time to catch our breath. Not _too_ long, though.” He climbed past Arthur, threw himself down on other side of the bed. Stretched, grinning lasciviously at his dragon. “Why don’t the two of you lie down, my heart? Get comfortable.” Still smiling, he opened the nightstand drawer and watched Arthur’s face redden as he pulled out the vial of oil, shaking it vigorously. “We’ll lie together on our sides--it’s a good position for Ayaka, you can’t get too deep that way.”

The subject of his last sentence gave him a suspicious look over Arthur’s shoulder. Her cheeks were still a bright rose, her eyes glinting like jewels held in a strong light. “What’s that for?”

Rider grinned. Tossed the vial from one hand to the other. “Arthur, darling. Isn’t it obvious? I have yet to meet the man who could take _me_ without preparation, and Arthur, stunning as he is, is definitely not him.” Crimson drowned Arthur’s pale skin. Lucius Tiberius smirked at him, let his tongue wet his lips, and his dragon looked resolutely away.

His wife vanished as something tentative and feathery brushed across his mind. Eagerly, he reached for it, but it skipped away before he could take hold, and the flames of Ayaka’s mind roared even higher. _Can’t keep that up forever, lovely. And you can’t keep me from talking to you. From touching you. From fucking you. Sure you want to waste your energy on this?_

There was a mumble from somewhere around the vicinity of Arthur’s chest and then Ayaka popped back up, her face so vivid a red she put cherries to shame. “Um...Arthur...if you...if it’s easier...I mean...I could do that!” Her last words came out on a single breath. “I could...for you...instead of _him-_ ” 

“ _ **No!**_ I mean...Ayaka...I could never...Something so obscene?” His dragon’s face was a bloodless mask, eyes wide as the sea, while Ayaka seemed to be shrinking rapidly into mist. Shame, sharper than Florent, vaulted her barriers, sank into his mind. 

Arthur’s voice gentled, his hand moving through her hair. “Beloved, I know that you’re only trying to spare me-” 

_Sure about that? Unlike you, our lovely little beast has an open mind._

"-But, by Christ’s wounds, I could _never_ ask you to do something so f-” 

“All right, _enough._ ” His yank sent Arthur to the bed, Ayaka tumbling down atop him. Left them blinking nervously up at him as he crouched over their bodies, his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “We can have a nice long discussion--and demonstration--of what constitutes obscenity later. Right now we’re all just becoming one.” He released Arthur and sank down next to them. Ran a hand over his husband’s hip, tickled Ayaka’s back, which he hadn’t really seen until now. Smiling, he looked her over. The soft curve of her ass was quite pretty, he decided, though not nearly as fantastic as her tits. Still, how much better she would look with a bite here and there, the print of his fingers on that white skin... _Not an inch left unmarked, darling._ Arthur, catching his gaze, growled and flipped them onto their sides.

Undaunted, he hooked an arm around them both, drew them closer, until he could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against his own. _Jealous?_ he purred into his dragon’s mind. _Don’t be. Ayaka has a lovely ass, but I know which one I prefer._ He uncorked the vial, dipped a finger in. _Let me show you, once again._

He buried his face in that sunlight hair, inhaled until his head was dizzy with soft winds and spring. _I want you saturated with me, every gap filled, until you’re as struck with me as I am with you. My Arthur._ His thumb caressed sensitive flesh as Arthur’s lips went tight. Slowly he slipped fingers in, one-two-three, rocking him gently. “I’ll come inside first, then you take Ayaka,” he whispered, stroking velvet heat, still wet from their joining earlier and a throb of pure joy shook him. _Love you, love you, love you,_ he crooned, bent a finger against his prostate. Arthur’s body jerked, a gasp escaping him--

_**What are you doing?** _

Rider lifted his head. Grinned at her raging eyes. Each word had been limned in pure fire, but at least she was open to him again. “Getting Arthur ready, lovely.” He bent, kissed the arm that lay across Arthur’s neck. Ran his tongue over her soft skin. “No different than me getting you all nice and soaked and slippery, except I’m only using fingers this time. However...” Thoughtfully, he nibbled the rim of Arthur’s ear. Pushed his fingers deeper, twisted them, shivered as he heard him moan heavily into Ayaka’s throat. “Nothing stopping me from using my tongue as well. What do you say, love?”

Arthur was silent except for his heavy breathing. “...Why,” he finally said, a note of utter exhaustion in his voice, “do you persist with these indecent questions, when you know what my answer will be?” 

Remorse pressed a cold finger into him. _Maybe I have been getting a little too excited, a little too carried away. Strong as he is, Arthur’s not used to any of this and it’s been a long, overwhelming night. He’s mine to keep and protect now, after all; there’s no need to rush when I have all of eternity to break down his reserve. Besides, if I do everything now, there won’t be anything left to look forward to later...So, pax, Lucius, and give your dragon a break._ “Just teasing, love, that’s all,” he murmured and kissed Arthur’s sweat-drenched nape. “Don’t take it seriously. I’ll stop, get back to more enjoyable things.” Moving with tender precision, he spread his fingers wider, thrust a bit faster. Arthur’s groan was muffled by Ayaka’s hair. He was twitching, his hips pushing back against Rider, his cock rubbing white streaks on their wife’s pretty thighs. _Now._ Full of careful love he slipped back into his dragon, melded with him once again, shaking with triumph, with the utter sweetness of returning home at last--

“Arthur!”

“He’s fine, darling,” Lucius Tiberius murmured without opening his eyes. Pity he wasn’t able to see his husband’s face in this position, the one sour note. “Hurry up and go with Ayaka, love. I can’t wait very long like this.”

There was a rustle, and then Ayaka’s body shifted, her leg curving awkwardly over his own. Knees and elbows jabbed him as she wound herself about their husband’s body. “If you hurt him, I’m going to _murder you,_ ” she whispered, her voice ragged with threat, and kissed Arthur defiantly.

Rider laughed quietly. “I’m not planning on hurting him, sweetheart, but I’ll hold you to that all the same,” he whispered back and kissed her nose as she kissed Arthur. Ayaka stared at him, her eyes candles of fury, but then his dragon pushed into her fully, made her gasp and moan, and her flames flickered out. Her head dropped, mouth turned in a thin scowl. Arthur’s breathing was quick and light, his heart rapid as a deer in the hunt. He shuddered, bent his head to Ayaka’s. Whispered something against her lips, and slowly, began to move.

Pleasure started its thorny dance again, drove him to and fro. Groaning, he wiped his fingers on the coverlet, took hold of Ayaka’s ass. Pulled them all tighter, their bodies tangled, a jostle of limbs and rocked against his dragon, gently for now. Heat enfolded him, his husband’s muscles catching and pulling at his cock, hard, then softer. Almost as if he was teasing...Rider threw his head back and moaned, his entire body shaking. Gods, Arthur was so tight around him, so much more responsive. Or was it simply that he was distracted with fucking Ayaka? _Neither of us will last very long, my heart,_ he thought hazily, massaging Ayaka’s soft flesh, the stiff muscle underneath. A startled moan echoed in his head. _So it’s fine to go slow, let the miracle drag out as long as we can..._

Holding Ayaka like this, he could nearly feel Arthur moving inside her. Carefully, he gave her a little nudge, brought her closer, so he could better feel them. She groaned, tensing under his hands, her mouth grim; he made his caresses even more gentle, trying to relax her. _If you clamp down too hard on Arthur, darling, he’ll lose himself first and then where will we be?_

One careless finger wandered a little too deeply, brushed against the place not currently occupied by Arthur. A screech tore through his mind, made his head ring as Ayaka bucked, shoving Arthur back against him, and they yelled in a single voice. _What what **what are you doing?** Lucius Tiberius!_

_Mistake! Honest mistake._ He redirected his hand, found the place where she and Arthur were joined. Stroked it instead. Wet heat, delicate skin, his husband’s cock pulsing under his fingers. Rapture so glorious he couldn’t breathe, his own cock twitching and trembling, ready to spill. _You’re squirming so delightfully on Arthur’s cock, it’s hard for me to stay in place...Did you like it?_

_**Shut up!** _

Rage, looped with a tiny thread of desire. Of pleasure. _Arthur can’t see what I’m doing, Ayaka._ His dragon’s face was buried in Ayaka’s neck, a desperate attempt to hide the ecstasy Lucius Tiberius knew he was feeling. Slowly, delicately, he inched the finger forward again. Rested it atop her and Ayaka took a sobbing breath. A soft stroke using just the tip of his finger. A deeper thrust of his cock into Arthur, into her. Another. Pleasure blew through his mind, made spiky with humiliation and fear. _Don’t be afraid. Just touching, won’t come inside...My sweet darling, I can make you so feel good._ Tenderly, he rubbed her, light circles, just as he had with Arthur. She whimpered, tossed her head. Bit down on her soft pink lip. Bliss shook him. _Let me show you._

Muscle locked around his cock, sent a shock of pain down his spine. A hoarse cry sliced the air and Lucius Tiberius belatedly realized his dragon was shuddering on the edge of orgasm. “Ah...Ayaka...I’m about-” Arthur choked. 

“Don’t! Not without me.” He was nearly there himself, just one moment, one moment together more--

_Oh...what about Ayaka?_

Too late: his orgasm broke through him, a relentless tide carrying him out of air and thought and mind. Arthur surged up to meet him, and they drifted in light, among the heavens, joy braiding them together, making them one...

Three voices shouting, power roaring, striking the earth, splitting it in two, divine fire keening in his ears, in his heart. He had too many legs, too many minds; who was he and where was him? A blink and he was suddenly small, heart pounding, golden hair under his cheek, Arthur’s seed wet on his thighs, mind like a steep dark pit with fire at the root, lust and hatred bubbling like lava; blink, and he was clutching his dearest love, his queen out of time in his arms, tears falling, heart and soul a chaos of anguish and pleasure and love, shyly touching between her legs to give her ease and joy and without her he would die. And he was she again, moaning gladly at the touch of her husband’s hand, loving him without end, I’llprotectyouI’llprotectyouI’llprotectyou--

_**Get out!** _

And he was home again, in his own familiar body, looking down at the two of them as they looked up at him, white with unease. 

Ayaka was the first to speak. “Why were you in my body? Why was I in _yours_?” She shuddered, her face damp and red, and scraped a hand across her eyes, as if trying to clear something away. “And...” She looked down suddenly, her face tender, full of light. “And...in Arthur’s...”

Briars thickened in his chest as Arthur answered her, his words indistinct but his voice so gentle, so loving. His face, too, was bright as he looked at his queen, at the woman he’d so entwined himself with that without her he wanted to die--

“It’s the binding,” Lucius Tiberius said abruptly, and withdrew from Arthur. “That was the last piece of it. Now, all of us are one for eternity. All of us,” he said, a little louder, and the ache in his chest grew and spread with each word. “Not just two-and-two anymore, but a triumvirate.”

His dragon looked at him finally. Flat emerald eyes, fingers tangled in Ayaka’s hair. “Ah. Though, I certainly hope that spontaneous intrusions into each other’s minds will _not_ be a common occurrence going forward--”

“They won’t,” he said, and rose. “I didn’t like it either, you know...Back in a minute.”

Inside the blue and gold bathroom, he washed himself. Splashed water over his face and hair. In the mirror he was a black shape, touched here and there with moonlight like a phantom out of the old tales. His eyes caught the moon, shone out of the darkness like silver coins. 

_They’d probably like me more if I **was** a ghost,_ he thought, and left.

Soft kisses. Whispering. They were lying together in a world of their own, hands clasped, Ayaka’s leg still over Arthur’s hip. Her skin was the brilliant pink of the summer roses in his palace in Rome, the ones he’d loved for their rich scent, their riot of blooms. He stood over them, watching, waiting and it took a full minute before they realized he was there. “What now?”

“I think you know what,” he said with sweet patience, and pulled her away from Arthur, raising her high in his arms.

“Rider!” Arthur rose on his knees to grab at her, his eyes dark with troubled anger. “What are you doing?”

He laughed: he couldn’t help it. “First, stop calling me Rider. Both of you. I have a name. Use it. Second, if you haven’t noticed, Ayaka was once again left out in the cold, Arthur--” 

“Arthur already took of me, Lucius Tiberius,” Ayaka said, her voice soft with rage. “I don’t need your services this time.”

Beneath them, Arthur sucked in a breath. 

Lucius Tiberius smiled. Bounced her a little. “Good to know! But, lovely, it doesn’t change the fact that Arthur’s had you _twice_ now, and me only once. So, before we say goodnight--” he swung around, carried her to the chaise on the other side of the room, “--I’d like to rectify that.”

“Isn’t this a little much for her?” Arthur said hoarsely. _Please, if you’re still beset by desire, take **me** instead,_ he added, voice pleading, and Lucius Tiberius felt the touch of that cold finger once more.

“It’s all right, Arthur,” Ayaka said in that soft, angry tone. Her eyes were fixed on his, blue as a flame’s heart. Unexpectedly, he shivered. Stroked his thumb across skin like roses burning. “I told you, I can take anything from him. But, after this-- _no more_ tonight. For either of us.”

“No more for tonight,” he agreed, and took her mouth with his.

Fingers opening her up, caressing her where Arthur’s seed was drying on her skin. He sucked the mark on her neck, barely visible now under her feverish flush and she yelped, bit him on the ear Arthur couldn’t see. Smirking, he squeezed her breast, pinched a nipple taut. Tightened his grip. Red curves shone under his nails, made Ayaka’s moans turn into growls. In retaliation she scraped stinging lines across his back, his arms, happy agony, until he couldn’t take it anymore and shoved her down for his cock.

Between consideration and being too tall to comfortably fit on the chaise he couldn’t go as fast as he liked but Ayaka was squeezing him again, pleasure licking through him, and that made all the difference. He set an easy pace, halfway between gentle and hard, slow and fast while his darling’s cunt grew tighter around him, her hips jerking. _Let’s come together this time, okay?_ he thought, dancing his tongue around hers. She was starting to lose it, her body trembling, mouth slack against his. Sweet tongues of flame consumed him. Her clit was so slippery with need of him he was having trouble keeping his hand in place, but he persevered, pinching the little bud firmly, sending images into her mind of his mouth on his cunt, lips and teeth and tongue--

She broke first, her soft cry muffled by his lips, and a second later he was tumbling after her with a yell, his seed rushing to mix with Arthur’s once more. _Good thing we can’t get her pregnant,_ he thought, mind gauzy as smoke, _or that could be a real problem._

“Could you please move?” Ayaka said underneath him, her voice oddly weak and strained. Had he been lying a little too heavily on her? Sweat was dripping off them both, curling dark trails in the velvet of the chaise. “I...I need to sit up.”

“Take your time, darling.” There was a bottle of wine nearby on the table: he rose and opened it, poured two glasses. He drained one, poured another for himself. Leaned back, feeling tired and almost satisfied. Across the room, Arthur watched them from the bed, his face expressionless. “Have some wine, it’ll help you sleep.”

“No thanks,” she muttered and pushed soaking wet hair off her brow. Her face was still a deep crimson, her eyes strangely bright. “Not...interested.”

“Now, now.” Lucius Tiberius picked up the glass, held it out to her. “Take a little. You look like you could use a soporific, with your skin so prettily flushed. I really got you worked up again, didn’t I? Admit it,” he said, and smirked.

The hand that took the glass was wobbling slightly but Ayaka’s glare could melt diamonds. She tossed back half of it, slammed the glass back on the table, where it spun and fell. Wine spilled out, made a glittering crimson lake over the shining wood. “There!” Unsteadily, she stood, started to walk away from him, back to Arthur.

“Let’s rest, Ayaka,” Arthur said quietly, his hand extended to her. “It’s been a long day.” 

Halfway across the room, she stopped. Swayed, as if her feet had gone numb, began to tremble. “Ayaka?”

“I...I feel...I feel weird,” she whispered, folded forward and collapsed.

_“Ayaka!”_

She moaned, hands clutching her waist as her body jerked, limbs flailing, familiar seizure...

Glass broke. Ice swelled his heart, pinned him in place. People were yelling, rushing past him, shoving him back, grabbing his arms, taking him away while his mother twisted on the floor, lips rolled back in seizure, bones cracking as she convulsed, spasming over and over and over and nothing could make her stop--

“Ayaka!” Arthur’s desperate cry snapped him out of Rome, back to a Tokyo highrise in 2003. He was holding her, frantically trying to control her twitching body as the fit tossed her. She moaned, teeth shining through a rictus of pain, her eyes _glowing_ as if she was on fire inside. “Too...much!” she gasped. “Too strong...you two! Too much!”

“What do you mean, Ayaka?” Arthur begged, clutching her hand in his, but her eyes were rolling back as her heels kicked at the floor, no answer there...

_“Aniketos!”_ Still frozen in place, he wasn’t even aware he had yelled. _“Now!”_

“I’m right here, Your Majesty,” he said from the doorway, a pinnacle of calm, reliable Aniketos who nothing, nothing, not even the world breaking could ever faze, and then his eyes caught sight of Ayaka. “Oh, my.”

His arm was shaking so he could hardly lift it to point. “Tell me what’s wrong with her, do it quickly, help her, _please--”_

“I have a very good idea of the problem already, Your Majesty,” he said quietly, already at Ayaka’s side. Gently, he moved Arthur’s hands aside, dodged Ayaka’s jerking arm, looked at her eyes, listened to her heart. “Mmm, yes,” he murmured, tilting her face as best he could towards the light. “Yes, it’s quite plain. The empress is suffering from mana poisoning.”

Shock stabbed him through the gut. _Poison?_

“W-What?” Arthur whispered. “How?”

Aniketos’s smile was gentle. “Simply put, Your Highness...or should it be Your Majesty, now? it is because Her Majesty has, ah...taken in a very great quantity of mana in a rather short frame of time. As you are both men from an elder age, when mana was considerably more powerful, and both men of supernatural origin besides, your mana is far more potent than anything a modern mage would normally encounter.” He laid a hand on Ayaka’s forehead, took her pulse with the other. “In short, her circuits have been overloaded and this is the unhappy result.”

“But she’ll be all right?” It took him a moment to realize that the strange, thin voice was his. “She’s not in danger?”

“Oh my, Your Majesty, no. Presently, Her Majesty is not in danger at all,” he said, head bent over Ayaka. “Unfortunately, as you can see, it is quite a painful condition, quite painful indeed. But, if I may take a few minutes, I shall make a tisane for Her Majesty that will quickly soothe her, and a further remedy besides. In the meantime,” he stood, gestured towards the bathroom, “cloths soaked in ice water, on her head and limbs, will do much to ease her until I return.”

Somehow, he found himself in the bathroom, kneeling before a tub of cold water, washcloths in his hands. Then he was back in the bedroom, helping Arthur bind the cloths around her wrists and ankles, lay them over her forehead and heart. Ayaka shivered, her body continuing to spasm, but ever since Aniketos had come she seemed calmer, he thought distantly, she wasn’t twitching as badly and she seemed to be responding to their voices, Arthur’s especially--

A breeze and Aniketos returned, a cup in one hand and a tangle of what looked like fine silver thread in the other. “Here, the tisane. If you would please hold Her Majesty while I administer it? Thank you. I have taken pains to ensure it is not too hot.”

Between the three of them they managed to get most of the tisane down Ayaka’s throat. A robe of green silk appeared from somewhere, was tucked around her shivering body. The thread was revealed as a cluster of necklaces, small white crystals hanging upon slender chains. One was detached from the group, hung around Ayaka’s neck, laying like a tiny moon against her flushed skin.

“Your Majesty, your hand, if you please.” He gave it without thinking, felt a pinch. Looked down to see blood running from his finger and an identical crimson wound on Arthur. Deftly, Aniketos took his hand again, smeared his blood on the crystal around Ayaka’s neck, repeated with Arthur. Let their blood drip over the crystals still in his hand.

“Now that it knows you, this crystal,” Aniketos said, touching it with the tip of a finger, “will purge the, forgive me, foreign mana from Her Majesty’s body.” Ayaka’s eyes were open now, the light of sense back within them and Lucius Tiberius found himself struck with an overwhelming desire to laugh and cry at the same time. “As you can see, I have taken the precaution of preparing others for future use. Until Her Majesty’s body has, ah, acclimated to Your Majesties’s mana, I would suggest she wear one each time you, ah, plan to be intimate.” Aniketos’ cheeks turned a faint pink. “When the crystal glows green, the purification process has completed, and the mana stored inside will be available for future use, should the Empress wish it.” 

“And once our mana is purged, Ayaka will be all right?” Arthur asked, his voice very low. Ayaka’s head lay on his shoulder, her body cradled in his arms.

Aniketos smiled. Patted Ayaka’s hand. “Yes, Her Majesty should recover very nicely now, with some rest. Though, Your Majesty, if I may be so bold as to speak freely?” 

“Yes?” she said, her voice barely audible, and Arthur hugged her even more tightly.

Aniketos patted her hand again, held it for a moment in his own.“If the river be dammed, then the water has no choice but to overspill the banks, and lay waste to the surrounding lands. Do you understand?”

Startled, she nodded.

“I am glad,” he said simply, and rose. His glance caught Lucius Tiberius’s and the Emperor lifted his chin very slightly in acknowledgment. “I will excuse myself now, if I may.”

Once they were in the hallway with all the doors shut, Lucius Tiberius folded his arms and looked down at his mage. “When you said that Ayaka was “not presently in danger”, did you mean that she never was in danger? Or,” his eyes narrowed, “was it more along the lines of ‘she’s no longer in danger now that I’m here?’”

Aniketos smiled faintly. “As always, Your Majesty is most perspicacious.”

“Speak.”

“First, I must beg forgiveness for allowing this situation to occur in the first place.” He bowed his head, voice thick with regret. “I should have warned Your Majesty, but truly, I thought you much more taken with His Majesty, and assumed most of your...ah, efforts, would be directed towards him. I had not considered that you would develop such depth of regard for the Empress--”

“You’re excused. Get on with it.”

“The latter, I am afraid,” he said, and sighed.

Ice crept back into his heart. When he breathed, it felt like every rib was breaking.“Then...Ayaka could have died.”

Arthur, not even trying to be subtle, filled his head suddenly, looked out through his eyes, heard with his ears.

“No. Not died, not quite that severe, no.” The mage’s eyes were grave. “But she would have very shortly slipped into a coma, most certainly, and would have been left crippled and bedridden for several weeks at best. At worst--” He hesitated and the stab of nervous horror he felt was matched by Arthur. “No, I will not burden you with the details. It is thanks to Her Majesty’s admirable constitution that the situation did not become worse than it actually was.” Aniketos’ expression turned thoughtful. “A most admirable and peculiar thing that constitution is. I do not believe we discovered any non-human ancestry in either the Sajyou or the Ainley line during our research, did we?”

He was so very tired. “No.”

Aniketos laid a hand on his arm. Looked up at him with his bright, sympathetic gaze. “The Empress will be fine, my lord. She is not in any danger, nor will she be going forward. Rest and nourishment will do wonders for her, and my charm will keep her safe within your embrace.” His voice was shrewd. “Do not worry.”

He left. Arthur left. Alone, Lucius Tiberius turned, walked slowly back inside.

They were where he had left them, on the floor, Arthur’s lips pressed to the top of Ayaka’s head. “How--” Embarrassingly, his voice cracked. “--Is she?”

Arthur was silent. Then, he gathered Ayaka into his arms and stood, his face turned away. “She sleeps,” he said, his voice only slightly warmer than ice.

His heart couldn’t take much more of this. “Look...Arthur...You know...that I didn’t--” 

“Is there another bedroom where I could take her?” he said, still not looking at him. “Ayaka needs an untainted place to rest.”

He couldn’t stand, his bones ached so. He sank down on a chair, waved a hand vaguely to the right. Noticed, with faint surprise, that it was trembling. “Two doors down,” he muttered. “Please...Arthur...”

The door banged open. “If,” Arthur finally said, his voice so low and rasping he could barely hear him, “I had not felt such genuine anguish and fear from you earlier, I would be very close to hating you right now.”

_“Arthur,”_ he whispered.

“Do not speak to us. Do not come near us. I do not want to see you, hear you, touch you or even think of you. If we are to be burdened with you for eternity, then I beg you grant us reprieve from your presence for the next several hours at least.”

The door shut.

Lucius Tiberius bowed his head. Sweat was pouring down his face, his chest, dripping onto his thighs. His body felt both dense as lead and light as snow. The room stank of wine, he realized. Just as before.

_Tokyo and Rome. Mother and Ayaka. It’s all just the same,_ he thought, each word dragging itself to him over a path of pitch and bile. Fooling around, so very pleased with himself. Giddy with his own stupidity as he smashed the fragile, precious life he’d sworn to protect, an idiot child ripping apart happiness with his own foolish hands. _Twenty-five years old and still no better than nine._

_All my fault._

“I was so dumb,” he whispered, as if they could hear him, as if they cared. “Just a stupid kid, horsing around, stupid kid things. Running around, I knocked into the table where the wine was kept. The jar shattered, but my mother wasn’t angry. It was just wine, she said, they’d bring a new one.”

Sweat pooled under his eyes, ran down his cheeks. Each breath tore away another piece of his heart. “She took some of the new wine and fell, just like Ayaka, jerking and twitching and spasming. Just a stupid kid, doing stupid kid things, but I killed my mother. All my fault.”

None of them would ever listen, but he said it anyway. 

“I’m...sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *collapses onto floor* soooooo looooong. soooo very loooong, argghhh.
> 
> good job, lucius tiberius. act like a jerk, suffer the consequences of being a jerk. jerk.
> 
> i might say more later, but i'm tired, so i'm just going to post.
> 
> next time: an old friend drops in for a chat, a new acquaintance is made, and a reckoning is had. 
> 
> also, i get to not write about sex!...for about half a chapter.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: okay! once again, this is half the chapter! because it's almost 8000 words as is and god alone knows how long the rest of it will be! also a shit ton of stuff happens and even more happens in the second half!

i think i know how to update a chapter and have it come up in the recents to show that it's been updated without making an entire new one now, so once i finish the second half, i'll append it to this with a note. 

real an is, as always, at the bottom of the fic.

 

Ayaka was falling slowly into warm darkness.

Memories flickered past her, brushed up against her, pulled her inside them as if they were eager to know her. Like great bubbles of colored glass they filled the air and she spun from one to another, watching--

A younger Arthur, so pale with anxiety she wanted to kiss him, standing before a cross-topped alter with a grim-faced man a little older than him. Doors swung open, bringing forth a crowd of people that made a path to him, and walking in their midst was a tall, bronze-haired girl dressed in blue with flowers twisted in her hair, her beautiful face cold as winter rain. At her side, an older man held her elbow tightly, as if she was a bird trying to fly away--

Arthur, older now, standing alone at a window and weeping silently as he watched three little girls being placed in a cart--

Lucius Tiberius, small and skinny and no more than ten years old. Crouching at the feet of a tall grey-haired man, crying “Mother, Mother, Mother!” his body rocking and heaving with great, gasping sobs. The man looked down at him in silence. His thin mouth twisted suddenly and he yanked Lucius Tiberius up, striking him repeatedly on the head, blow after blow. “Crying? Crying? A prince of Rome, crying?” he hissed as blood gushed down Lucius Tiberius’s face and the little boy crumpled to the floor--

She slid into another bubble: Lucius Tiberius again, slightly older, lying in a great gilded bed, one bandaged leg propped up on a heap of silk pillows, scowling as he furiously scribbled what looked like math equations on the tablet clutched in his hand--

The bubbles broke and she was eight years old, standing in Garden, her father’s warm hand tight around hers. “This place was made for you and you alone, Ayaka,” he said, and at the sound of his voice, stern and slightly raspy, she started to cry. “Your mother created this for you. Not for Manaka. It’s a place of sanctuary, an unbreakable spell that will never falter. If anything ever happens, run here right away. You’ll be safe here.”

 _I...forgot about this too...Papa holding my hand. Talking to me kindly, without scolding me. Like I was important._ A tear dropped off her cheek. _How many other things did I forget because of Manaka?_

A girl giggled, high and sweet. 

The air froze, went grey like an old photograph. Darkness crept along the floor. It broke through Garden’s walls, swallowed the trees, turned them to stone. The hand around hers was no longer warm and large but small and cold, and it was pulling her--

Frantic, she braced her feet, tried to yank her arm away. Her feet slid out from under her and she crashed to the ground, rocks tearing her skin. Blue moonlight glowed around her, growing brighter and colder with every frantic beat of her heart. Small bare feet danced nimbly up to her, feet white as new snow. She couldn’t lift her head.

“You’re such a bad girl, Ayaka,” her sister chanted, her voice rising and falling like a song. “The Grail War was never meant for someone as clueless as you. Why is such a pathetic, hopelessly average girl trying to fight? Trying to take my prince away from me? He’s my fated partner, not yours. Talking to him. Shamelessly treating him like an ordinary man. Dirtying him.” Her hand shot out, pulled Ayaka to her feet, and Ayaka found herself looking down at the top of Manaka’s moon-pale hair. _Wait,_ a small voice inside her said. _Why am I looking down at her?_

Her sister began to walk, Ayaka stumbling behind her as if she was a dog on a leash. She saw crimson streaks on pale green cloth. Flashes of white skin as Manaka moved, the wet red edges of the gash Excalibur had carved in her back showing through the rent in the fabric--

_This...isn’t a memory of that time. It’s happening, it’s happening again right now!_

Manaka was dragging her forward as if she was still eight, Ayaka’s feet sliding easily over the rocky ground. “Arthur’s not yours. He doesn’t love you. He _killed you_ to save me!” she said desperately, trying to yank away. “We...we love each other, Manaka! Arthur and me, we’re married! He’ll never forgive you for this!” 

“Don’t you hate liars?” Manaka sighed. Her steps never slowed. Ice stabbed Ayaka’s heart and the pit was before them, a great shadow curling and pulsing in its depths--

_Food, Mama! I’ve been so hungry! Where’s my special food?_

“Right here,” Manaka trilled. Crimson gushed down her back, dripped off the hem of her dress. “You had to wait so long, didn’t you? Ayaka’s such a bad girl it took me a long time to find her again.” Manaka waved a hand at the crackling darkness so nearly under their feet, her smile brilliant as sunlight on snow. “But here she is--and after you’ve crunched her all up, even the bones, I’ll fill you up up up again with lots of sweet little useless things, just like before. Fill you up, big and strong, for him.” She stopped, then said, very softly: “The only one who matters in all the world.”

Ayaka collapsed, clawed her free hand into the ground, anything to slow Manaka down but she was still moving, her back soaked bright red. Blood pattered over Ayaka’s face. She tasted old iron on her lips. Manaka paused. Looked over her shoulder with a sweet, arch smile. They stood at the lip of the pit. Shadow licked the air, the stone, groping for Ayaka, the whine of its hunger ringing her ears.

“He’ll hate you for this, Manaka!” she gasped. Her sister’s hand was like ice over hers. “He’ll hate you! You say you love him, but you’re killing people! Arthur would hate that! He’d never want this!” She was crying now, hot frantic tears dripping off her face while her sister looked out over the pit with a serene smile and a grip like iron.

“He’ll rule a great, eternal kingdom,” Manaka said, her voice almost tender. “That’s what he wants, don’t you know? Everyone will smile for him and there’ll be peace, peace, peace all day long. A kingdom of happiness. My prince its wonderful ruler.” She shoved Ayaka so she dangled almost into the pit, at the black snarl panting to devour her. “You can create that for him, Ayaka! Mediocre and so stupidly, pointlessly average as you are, you can create that for him!” She stamped her foot, cheeks bright, blood over snow. “You’re babbling to me about _love_ and stuff, but here you are, saying no to his dream!” 

A tiny ember of anger sputtered through her frozen blood. “That’s not what he wan--” 

“A little bit of nothing saying no to his dream,” Manaka said, calm again. “Hahaha, that’s really rude and immature, but that’s Ayaka, isn’t it?” Her eyes shone, blank as the moon. “Sheesh, and here I am being nice enough to let you help with his dream and you’re saying no. You begged me to let you help, don’t you remember? So...” A twitch of her hand and Ayaka hung half out in space, Manaka’s grip on her collar the only thing keeping her alive. “Fall for him.”

Shadow surged, a chill wave grabbing at her singing _food food food!_

“No.” Sunlight cracked through the ice in her chest. “No,” she said again and felt the sun rising inside her, pure and hot, burning away the darkness. Light was pouring from her heart, the same light that had called Arthur to her as Lancer’s spear had pierced her chest. “No, Manaka! _Not again, never again!”_

Manaka stepped back, shaking her hands as if Ayaka burned, and she fell.

Her hands touched darkness before gold sprang up beneath Ayaka, exuberant, silken petals kissing her fingers. Lilies by the thousands swarmed the pit, choked the muttering darkness beneath them, and they bore her up like a wave, carrying her back onto safe ground. “I won’t let you! I won’t let you hurt Arthur again.” Grass, soft and slippery, under her knees. Roses bloomed from stone, crimson and pink and white as birds called softly, their wings rustling. Manaka skipped back, her smile tilting. “I won’t let you hurt _me_ again!”

“Oh, well done, Your Highness!” said a woman from the air, her voice like birds at dawn. “I thought I would have to intervene, but you figured it out just in time.” Sunlight dappled the air as a breeze danced around her, fragrant with spring. Manaka’s mouth made a comically beautiful _O_ as her eyes darted around the cave, sparks jumping off her fingers, rippling off the walls. Asters begin to climb up her skirt, grow out of the hole in her heart. She tore them away but new ones kept growing as fast as she ripped at them, until she was a swaying mound of iridescent flowers, light breaking and snapping around her. 

“Might as well leave it, mechanism,” the invisible woman said calmly. “I won’t let you touch the queen. And this is one place you can’t stretch your grubby little fingers into, no matter how hard you try.”

Under her shroud of flowers, her sister was laughing. Ayaka felt her nerves jerk. For the first time in Manaka’s life her perfection had cracked, just a little, and her giggles were raw and unlovely, shrill beneath the blossoms. “Stupid, so stupid, what’s mediocre Ayaka gotten up to now? If you think _this_ \--” her fingers shredded petals, disintegrating them into microscopic bits “--will let you catch up to _me_ \--” 

“Thinking isn’t your strong suit either, you know,” the woman interrupted, her voice still pleasant and even. “You just do, that’s all you were made for...but Cath Palug _will_ come and sit on my head in roughly an hour, so we really need to move along now. Your Highness...ah, that’s you of course, Queen Ayaka--if you’ll kindly take two steps to your right, I think you’ll find far more congenial surroundings awaiting you.”

The flowers urged her forward, enfolding her like warm arms. Bright air stretched out to greet her and Ayaka fell gently this time, borne by love.

 

Sunlight gently worked under her eyelids, brought her back from sleep. 

The air blowing across her cheek was fresh and warm as summer. She was curled, knees to chest, in a nest of flowers and soft green grass. Hesitantly, she sat up, rubbed her eyes. A soft brown shape whisked past, turned to look at her from the shadow of a nearby grove, and Ayaka realized it was a deer.

 _Where am I? It’s beautiful here, but...Did I die? Did Manaka kill me after all?_ Panic sent her stumbling to her feet, bare against the warm earth. She wasn’t wearing her robe any longer, but a white dress, soft and flowing, glittering with tiny stones. Her hair had been put up and braided with flowers. Heart pounding, she reached up, very gently pulled one free. A peony, big as her cupped hands, white as her dress, with silver streaks in its heart. 

“H-Hello?” Her voice was raspy with fear. “Hello?” _Am I alone here? Is this heaven? Even if it is, I don’t want to stay here!_ she thought, frantically looking for something that wasn’t flowers or trees, or the endless, radiant blue sky. “Please, anyone! Is anyone here besides me?”

 _Queen!_ a tiny voice suddenly called from the air. _Queen!_

 _Queen!_ another agreed, and sunlight flared around her. Ayaka shut her eyes, felt warmth rush up her arms, coat the back of her neck, tap lightly across her face. _Queen!_ a chorus sang, their voices much nearer now. Trembling, she opened her eyes, just a bit. A glittering cloud hung before her, made up of thousands of tiny golden faces adorned with shimmering wings. More of them speckled her arms, were moving over her throat, her face. Frightened beyond speech, all she could do was stare as the cloud sailed towards her, fell upon her. Swarmed over her, covered her face until she couldn’t breathe and the land vanished under a shroud of gold.

 _“Queen!”_ they rustled joyfully in her ear. _“Queen of the deathless land!”_

“Get back!” a voice suddenly commanded, the same voice as the woman from the cave. “Off!”

Immediately the cloud of gold lifted off her, letting Ayaka breathe again. She took several gasping breaths, began to cough. Petals shook loose and fell around her, dappling her skin with tiny patches of silver pollen.

“Honestly, those piri don’t know when to stop,” the voice continued. “They’re not quite fairies, you know, more like proto-fairies. They have little wit and less sense...ah!”

A woman was coming toward her over the crest of a hill with light steps, her crimson slippers neatly parting the emerald grass. She was petite, no bigger than Ayaka, with hair as long as she was tall, hair so white it glowed. It fell about her in soft waves, caught up here and there with roses, peonies, lilacs, violets. Her wide white skirts belled out around her, layered like petals. She glided towards Ayaka, a flower made human, the only wrong note the odd black staff she carried, thorny and crooked, topping her small head by a good two or three feet. The strange woman stopped just before Ayaka and beamed at her like they were long-lost friends.

“Oh, you’re cute!” she exclaimed in delight, her cheeks pink as the roses in her hair. “I mean, I knew you were cute, you’ve always been cute, but knowing isn’t quite the same as experiencing, is it?”

“Um--” 

“I saw the girls,” she continued, as if Ayaka knew exactly what she was talking about, “and started to follow them, but then I realized if _they’re_ going to you, it’s not the right you, but the you much further in the future than the you I wanted to meet. So I took another look around and here--” she flashed a bright smile and gave her staff a little wave, “--you are!”

“Um,” Ayaka said again, dizzy with pollen and her tumble of words. “Um...you’re the woman from before, aren’t you? If you don’t mind me asking...who are you, exactly?”

The woman sank down into a deep curtsy. Took Ayaka’s hand between her own, and kissed it, her lips soft as down. “Myrrdin ferch Emrys, more popularly known as Merlin, at your eternal service, my Queen.” She looked up, and her perfect brow wrinkled slightly. “Though Emrys wasn’t really my father. Just someone my mother married while she was pregnant with me in order to save face. Much like the Duchess Igrainia--” 

“Merlin? _The_ Merlin? Arthur’s Merlin? You’re a woman?” she blurted. The other woman was still holding her hand, gently stroking her wrist with her soft fingertips. The scent of a hundred flowers rose around her, sweet and spicy in turns. “The...piri were calling me “queen of the deathless land”. Then--this place is...” 

“Avalon? Oh yes.” Merlin’s eyes were the same greying violet as a twilight sky, her smile a shared secret. “Behold your kingdom, O Once-and-Future-Queen.”

 

They sat in a cup of silver trees on a small rise not far from where Ayaka had landed. A stream ran at their feet, its bed layered with pebbles that shone like pale rainbows under the clear skin of the water. Flowers rioted around them, endless to the horizon. To the north, the dark crisp line of a forest, a lake shining blue in the sun. Smiling, Merlin plucked flowers of pink and scarlet and gold, tossing them in her lap--“A little tribute for my Queen”--until her skirt was smothered in them and she felt as if she would drown in their fragrance.

She touched the soft petals, stained her fingertips in their vivid colors. “Those flowers that came...before. With Manaka. You said that was me?” The place over her heart where the light had come from was still a little hot, as if a tiny chunk of the sun had lodged there. “All of it, me?”

“Mmm-hmm. All you.”

“How?”

“Well, you are the queen of this land, you know. Its power is your own, just like Arthur. Nothing is denied you. All this--” a small white hand saluted the paradise before them “--is yours. Yours to call. Yours to command.” Merlin studied her latest flower, an enormous white violet, then gently, carefully, placed it with the others entwined in Ayaka’s hair. “Of course, it certainly helped that your father had the foresight to shove Avalon inside you, which forged a link good and early and your marrying Arthur just enhanced it--”

Ayaka’s brain jerked to a halt. “What? Papa...Avalon... _what?_ ”

Merlin looked at her through half-shut eyes, a peaceful smile curling over her lips. “Right, right, you blocked most of the War days out. Plus your father erased your memory of the procedure too.” She reached over, made another adjustment to the flowers in Ayaka’s hair. “Hiroki Sajyou was a frightened man. Of your sister, and for you. So, Arthur bestowed Avalon--that’s Excalibur’s sheath, you know, which is both this land and not at once, but details are _boring,_ let’s skip them--upon him so it could protect you. Then your father placed it inside you.” 

_Tap tap_ went her finger against Ayaka’s breastbone and light gleamed gently in response. “Good thing he sealed most of its power away so you didn’t stay eternally eight years old, huh? And that there was enough power left to keep healing you through the hard times. Like Lancer. Would it have been better or worse if you had known, I wonder? The timelines seem to split 50-50 in that regard.” _Tap tap._ “Want to remember?”

_Midnight. Wearing her best white dress and lying down on the cold table in Papa’s workshop, sweaty-scared but obedient. Papa busy across the room with something she couldn’t see, muttering to himself. “I’ve adjusted the output as much as my own poor skill will allow, but is it enough? It must be. Too much, and who knows what may happen. Such sacred things were never meant for human hands and she is a human child; better leave it low.” A pause. Silver light filled the room, as if every star had come out all at once. “How can everything have gone so right, and yet so wrong? That girl.”_

_She opened her eyes with a jolt--had she fallen asleep?--and saw Papa bending over her, his hand touching her heart. “I am sorry if this hurts you, Ayaka. But it must be done, for your own good. Please forgive me. For any pain and for--for not fulfilling my duty towards you as your father sooner.” Beautiful light in her eyes, blinding her, and then a star was falling into her heart, whiter than snow, hotter than the stove and all of sudden flowers were blooming inside her, hundreds and hundreds of them, all of them burning--_

Ayaka snapped back with a gasp, heart blazing. “I knew there was a holy relic inside me from Papa’s papers,” she whispered. “but I though it was something he’d put inside me when I was a baby. Since I couldn’t remember anything. He made it sound unimportant, like it was just some simple charm that would protect me if my life was in danger. But then Arthur came, and I wondered, just a little bit. And all this time...it was _Avalon...”_

“Great early wedding gift, huh?” Merlin said cheerfully. “I might have nudged Arthur’s mind juuust a little bit with that one. Poor boy, he was so confused and unhappy during that War it was some job getting through to him, but I managed. So much could have gone wrong if I hadn’t. Sometimes, humans are just...” She fell silent and an immense tower, delicate as lace and solid as steel, stretching infinitely into the heavens, appeared in the distance. Glittering chunks of crystals circled it, spinning slowly in mid-air.

Petals flew as Ayaka jumped. “What the--? What the hell? Where did that--that tower wasn’t there before!”

“Surprise!” Merlin’s smile was back again, wide and pleased. She waved her staff at the tower, a cheery dip of greeting. “Gave you a fun little scare, didn’t I? Lo and behold: my prison. My home. I stuck a veil of illusion over it to keep you from getting distracted by it. It does catch the eye, doesn’t it?”

“Prison? That beautiful thing is a prison?” Now that she mentioned it, Ayaka could vaguely remember something about a student of Merlin’s shutting her away for eternity. But the legend had spoken of a cave, not a radiant crystalline tower. “But, it’s not a very good prison if you’re out here then, is it?”

“Oh, this isn’t my actual body. Real me is still inside that tower. The only way I can come out here is by sleeping. Just like you, I’m dreaming.” Merlin propped her staff against her shoulder and stretched, her slender arms emerging from the sleeves of her robe like the stems of a flower. “Not much else to do in there.”

She looked at the shining white hair, the flawless white dress. The slim hands, solid as gold, that had touched her so deftly. _She’s just a dream of the real Merlin?_ “Wait. If Arthur has power over everything in Avalon, then why hasn’t he let you out? Or me, since you said I have that power too? Don’t you want to be free?”

“Ah, such a kind queen.” Merlin’s smile was soft and slightly bitter. “I appreciate it, I really do. But, as you noted, if either you or Arthur could free me, I would have been out a long time ago. That tower is the one place your power doesn’t reach.”

“Why?” 

Merlin shrugged, her eyes on the tower. “It’s complicated. Metaphysical, physical, emotional, bonds and bindings and boundaries. A geis here, a seal there. All swirled in the stew of Vivian’s rage and garnished with a heaping pile of ugly, sour things. Don’t worry. It’s not like it prevents me from getting around. I can manifest anywhere in my dreams. Your mind, other people’s minds, the waking world, all of it. It’s what comes of being a cambion.” Her smile brightened. “Useful, isn’t it? The only place closed to me is the Throne of Heroes, and I get enough updates from you--well, the later you--and Arthur that I don’t mind.” The bright smile turned wicked. “I hear the Roman section is _wild._ ”

Ayaka looked down at the shimmering petals that still clung to her skirts. Felt her heartbeat pick up. Her mind was ricocheting in a million different directions, questions bouncing through her skull like a horde of kangaroos. She licked her lips. Picked the safest one first. “Does that mean we’re--Arthur and me--we’re in both? Here and the Throne?”

“Mmm. As I understand it, you go to sleep _here_ and go off visiting to _there._ Just as I do. Then you come back. There’s no time here or there, so I can’t say how long you’re gone for. Just that you’re gone.” Merlin’s fingers played with her staff, picking at a knot in the dark wood. “The fairies guard the place while you sleep, so there’s no danger. But it’s not as if anything can get in here without the king’s permission.” A small, pointed smile settled on her mouth. “Manaka Sajyou, for example. Avalon is the one place things like her can’t go. Even if she could, Arthur’s triple-barred the borders against her anyway.” Her smile widened, showing teeth like pearls, and a surprisingly pale tongue. “How infuriating it would be for her if she wasn’t a blank void incapable of real emotion! But she is, so it’s not as funny as it could be, I’m afraid. Just kind of mildly amusing.”

Ayaka felt needles somewhere in her stomach. Under her pretty skirts, her legs were shaking. “What,” she said, slow so her rising panic couldn’t stop her, “do you mean, “things like her”?” _What are you saying? What do you mean?_ “You called her a “mechanism” before,” she managed to say. “Why?”

Merlin laughed. “Because that’s what the thing called Manaka Sajyou _is._ She’s a clump of the Root shoved into a human hide, a glorified key with a girlish face. A craftling that exists for one purpose and one purpose alone: to fall in love with Arthur and to bring forth the Sixth Beast in response to that love. A stepping stone. A screwdriver. That’s all she is and all she’ll ever be.” 

“I...I don’t...I don’t understand...” 

Merlin’s eyes were glittering, the flowers in her hair stirring and bending as if they were silently laughing themselves. “What’s there to understand? She’s a fake. Fate, or something near it, slapped a human face and a wisp of a personality onto a terminal of the Root and sent it forth to summon a Beast. No need to give her the full set of emotions, or a human-compatible mind. She only had to pass for human long enough to get her task done. Power and passion. That’s all that was needed and that’s all that was granted.” 

“A fake,” she repeated dully. Ice coiled round her bones. “Not human.”

“Not really, no. It’s especially funny because she thinks every other human on the planet is a worthless shadow, her and Arthur excepted. And Arthur not human himself!” She wiped mirthful tears from her eyes, giggling like a young girl. “It’s delightful! Everything about her is _screamingly_ hilarious, aside from the whole “I can potentially wipe out all of humanity” bit. She thinks she’s the only true person in the world, she thinks she’s in love, she thinks she’s the boss of that Evil of Humanity. Wrong, wrong, wrong! So very wrong! Too bad her omniscience left out all the important parts.”

“Omniscience--”

“Like the fact that her love’s not real and never was, but oh, don’t try and tell her that! Seriously, though. Don’t try to tell her that. As you saw in the cave, nothing you could say would ever convince her that Arthur’s not her perfect, destined prince. The two of you could have sex right in front of her and it wouldn’t even make a dent. Her programming doesn’t allow things like _reason_ and _logic_ to intrude on love’s young dream, you see. So funny.”

“Programming...” 

“False face, false love, false life. All a means to an end and that end is the Beast.” She patted Ayaka’s arm. “Don’t wrinkle your pretty skin worrying about it, my queen. Once Manaka summons the Beast it will devour her in order to fully materialize, they’ll merge, and Arthur will destroy them both. So don’t fret. About fighting her, I mean. She’s set up to fail and does...well, most of the time.”

“Beast Six will eat her. Arthur will kill her. Root. A clump of the Root.” Her voice sounded so young and hollow. “That’s right, she said she was connected to it right before she killed Papa, didn’t she? I forgot about that too. Well...well, I guess I know now why she was always so good at everything.” Ayaka laughed, dry and tight, laughed so she wouldn’t start crying again, but it was too late and the tears were splashing off her nose. “The _Root!_ ” she sobbed as Merlin’s arms came around her gently. “I never had a chance, did I? Oh, what am I saying? Did Mother know? Papa didn’t, not until the end--”

“No. It had to be that way, otherwise everything would have been ruined.” She was rubbing Ayaka’s back as if she was a child. “Such a strange taste,” she whispered. “Bitter and heavy. Spiky, like chewing on nettles...I don’t think I like it. My queen, why do you cry so?”

“None of it was real, even when she smiled at me. Asked me to help her cook. When she hugged me goodbye. Why? Why? Why? Why did she bother, if none of it was real? My sister’s not real, my parents gave birth to a fake, Mama and Papa, why?” she sobbed into Merlin’s neck, her voice struggling under the tears. “Why _us_? Why did they have a child who couldn’t love them? Who was going to destroy the world? Who killed Papa and wants me dead too? Was it a punishment for something we did in a previous life?” She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, her fingers knotted into Merlin’s sleeve. “And Arthur! Because of him this Beast is born? _When does it stop?_ Arthur’s so good, why do these things keep happening to him? When does he get to rest? Beasts, Manaka, Morgan, Lucius Tiberius!” Her scream shook her entire body. _“Why him? Why always him?”_

“Hush. Hush. Calm down, Ayaka. My queen, Arthur’s love, Arthur’s joy. Listen to me.” Merlin’s voice held a strange lulling note. “Arthur was born to be a protector. A bulwark against evil. That’s how he is. Pain will always be hunting for him.” Her voice turned soft, almost weary. “That’s why...you need to tell him to grab at happiness whenever it comes. _However_ it comes. That he’s allowed to be selfish once in a while. He’s not very good at that, so you’ll need to help him get better.” 

Merlin’s hand cupped Ayaka’s chin, raised her tear-streaked face to hers. Stroked her cheeks, gently smoothed tears away. “Taking on evil today to bring forth a better tomorrow. Summoning strength when all hope is lost. That’s what Arthur’s all about. You’ve already had a taste of that, but more’s to come. Yes, the Beast is born because of him...but because of him the Beast is born. Do you understand?”

Ayaka wiped her eyes. Turned the words over in her mind, pulled them apart. Shook them, flipped them upside down. _Because of him, it’s born. A bulwark against evil. It’s born because of him. Born for him._ “Maybe,” she said slowly. “Without Manaka and Arthur, the Beast would never be born. But,” she looked up into Merlin’s soft grey-violet eyes, “if it’s not born, it will never be defeated.”

Merlin laughed. “You are the best queen! Yes, that’s how it is. His is the only hand capable of striking it down for good, its birth and death in one. Although--” Merlin’s smile flickered. “No, never mind. Not now. That’s all another time, another place. Let’s mind other things instead. You were asking why Manaka bothered to hug you and cook with you, and etc., etc. Well, did she ever do things like that before she summoned Arthur?”

Manaka, quiet and distant, pale and beautiful as a wax doll. Someone Ayaka only reliably saw at meals, occasionally glimpsed around corners. Perfect Manaka, who had silently mastered all of the Sajyou magics by the age of eight, and spent her days someplace Ayaka couldn’t see. “No,” she said quietly. “Now that you mention it, she didn’t. I remember thinking that she seemed different all of a sudden. Almost like she was...normal. She smiled, and talked to me, and--and read me a book, and...” Tears came again. “Why? If she was always planning to kill us, why?”

“Hmm. How can I put this? She wasn’t exactly planning to kill you...well, at least until she found out that Arthur had sworn himself to you as your knight. Planning implies caring. Which she never did. You and your father were...mmm, not exactly toys...more like...supporting actors! Yes! Once she lost her omniscience, the two of you suddenly became a little bit interesting, because she no longer could foresee your every movement, your every word. So things like cooking and hugging had a sort of novelty. But everything she did was always in service to her desires, and only hers. Never think otherwise.”

Each time she thought she was past pain, another blow came. “So Papa and I were just a game to her?”

“Sort of...ahhh, sweet Ayaka, don’t cry so.” Merlin’s hands were soft against her hot skin. “Not a game exactly. More like accessories. Being “Manaka Sajyou” was her anchor to this plan of reality, the environment that would allow her to meet with her “love”. That’s only reason she kept up her charade of humanity. Since you and your father were necessary for the role of “Manaka Sajyou” she oh-so-graciously allowed you to stay around and play out your parts. Until you both became too troublesome, of course. Odd though.” One hand began to play with a thick tendril of mother-of-pearl hair, flipping it back and forth to catch the light. “For some reason she stayed “Manaka” far longer than she usually does. Doing things she didn’t need to, like giving in to your father about letting Arthur fight. That’s usually when she kills him in most timelines, and then things move a lot faster. I wonder why she held off in this world?”

Ayaka raised her head from the cushion of Merlin’s shoulder. Felt the arm supporting her suddenly slacken. “Timelines,” she said, looking up at the mage’s pale, youthful face, at the smoky violet eyes that were suddenly busy examining a peony of perfect gold. “This is the third time you’ve mentioned timelines. What are you talking about when you say ‘timelines’?”

Merlin smiled faintly, her eyes still on the peony. “Oops. You noticed that despite everything, didn’t you? My brilliant queen.”

She sat up all the way. “Like alternate universes? Like a world where Arthur dies at Camlann and another where he doesn’t--” 

“No. Arthur always dies at Camlann. Some things can’t ever be changed, for the good of humanity.” Merlin’s voice was calm, but green suddenly stained her fingers and dripped onto her gown. “But yes. You’re right. One choice here, another one there. I can see what will be, what has been, and what’s going on right now.” The broken-stemmed flower dropped from her fingers to lay beside Ayaka’s knee. “At the point where you are now, another fifty futures split off. Some more likely than others. Some wonderful. Some very much not.”

“Tell me then! Please, tell me what we need to do!” _To make sure that everything turns out all right. To make sure that **we’ll** be all right._

“I can’t,” the mage said softly. “I do that, and things go wrong. If you know the future, even a bit of it, you start _trying._ Trying to make sure it comes to pass, trying to force anything that looks even slightly off into the shape you think it’s meant to be. Trying to avoid pain, even when it’s necessary. If the smallest thing slips, you panic, and then so much goes wrong.”

Her heart was kicking against her ribs. “Not even,” she said in a small voice, “if we’ll be okay in the end?”

A hand touched Ayaka’s shoulder. Drew her back. “Stay strong,” the bird-voice whispered into Ayaka’s hair. “Trust Arthur, and yourself. You have everything you need to win. Keep going, even when the darkness blots out everything. Bad things need to happen in order for good to win out in the end. Remember that, and don’t give up. Remember. Remember.”

“Bad things. Painful, necessary things.” She took a breath, tried to steady her voice, “Like Lucius Tiberius? If you can come into dreams, you could have warned Arthur. But you didn’t. Is there really...are we really stuck with him?”

“Lucius Tiberius? Oh, rooster-hair.” Merlin released her and broke a twig off a nearby branch, her fingers neatly stripping the blossoms away. She took another, then two more. Broke off a few blades of grass and began winding them around the wood, forming what looked like a tiny boat. “Did you know he isn’t even summoned in most timelines? Usually the Rider is the Greek hero Perseus. Your timeline really is a weird one.”

“Are we still with him, even now?” Her throat felt like it was caught in a vise. “Are we?”

“If you mean, _is he here now,_ I’ve never seen him here. I seem to recall hearing something about an agreement between the three of you?” Merlin said calmly. Head bent, she was weaving grass between her fingers, crafting a tiny sail. Finished, she fixed it to the twig boat and set it on the stream, where it bobbed away on the current, leaving a gleaming rainbow wake behind. She watched it go, then raised her eyes to Ayaka. A small smile pulled the corner of her mouth. “You’re really quite cruel to him, you know, even after all this time. I’ve never understood that--” 

**_“Do you not get what he did?”_ **

“--since...well...mmmm, can’t say that. Or that, either. Or that...I will say that you cried yourself quite breathless when he died.” She began to make another boat. “Is it a human thing?”

“I don’t believe you,” Ayaka said through numb lips. “The only way he dies is if I murder him myself. I’ll never shed a tear over that bastard, never, never.”

“Never’s a long day.” The second boat went off in search of its sibling, adorned with tiny white blossoms and a tassel from Merlin’s robe. The mage turned. Looked at Ayaka gravely. “My queen, I know that you’re angry at him right now--” 

**_“I am fucking furious!”_ **

Merlin winced. “Pungent! Far, far too pungent!” She scooped water out of the stream and took a long drink. Dabbed her mouth dry with the hem of her skirt. “It’s just strange to me,” she continued, “that he draws such ire from you. Manaka is a heartless piece of mimicry who killed your father, caused you twelve years of pain, has tried twice so far to kill you, will attempt your life at least twice more, never loved you and will never love you. Yet you weep because you loved her and somehow still do. Rooster-hair has pained you for exactly one day. Whatever his flaws and crimes, he loves and is capable of loving. Unlike Manaka, he’s quite trainable. Yet he’s a man eternally unforgivable.” She regarded Ayaka with bright, thoughtful eyes. “Why?”

Ayaka stared into the distance. Hands, mouth, a wicked, pleasing tongue. Blood gushing down a little boy’s face. A sword against her cheek. Threatening her in one breath and soothing her in the next. Clumsy attempts at thoughtfulness and caring, made worse by sincerity. A voice, pleading for her to come back. The look on Arthur’s face as he watched Lucius Tiberius mount her. His weight over her, the feel of him inside her, thick and unbearably hot. Overwhelming fear and sorrow drowning out her own pain. Was it her imagination, or was the pristine sky starting, almost imperceptibly, to darken? 

“If you don’t understand how bad forcing us to marry and sleep with him is,” she said in the most level voice she could manage, “then there’s nothing more I can tell you.”

Merlin’s eyes closed. “Individual suffering doesn’t matter in the teeth of the whole, right? Small evils, and sometimes large ones, are no big deal as long as humanity is saved, right? As long as pain buys you happiness in the end, it doesn’t matter how bad it hurts in the moment, right? Right,” she murmured, as if talking to herself. “But such sacrifices should never been taken so lightly. For years and years I didn’t care, until he came--and even then, it took that tower to truly make me aware.”

“I can endure anything as long as the world will be saved,” Ayaka said hoarsely. Arthur’s face rose before hers, kind and wonderful, and so full of pain. “That doesn’t mean I can’t hate it. Or him.”

Wind whistled through the tops of the trees, shaking silver leaves down on Ayaka’s head. A dark arrow of birds broke the blue of the sky, crying softly to each other as they passed. Merlin watched them go in silence. The fingers that gripped her staff were slowly becoming translucent, Ayaka realized, the dark wood gleaming through the mage’s white skin. “Your hand!”

“Yes. It’s nothing.” She smiled, but there was little joy in it. “Cath Palug is biting at my toes and I’m starting to wake up, that’s all. So please forgive your stupid, thick-headed mage before she fades away completely, my queen. I never meant to cause you more pain. But, you were right. I can’t understand how you feel. I’m too used to looking back at everything from the end-point of salvation. To watching the whole of you, and knowing that a day will come when you will be glad of him. Knowing that one day the two of you will truly smile at him for the first time, and that day will live on as his happiest memory.” 

Ayaka’s heart knotted. “I don’t want to be glad of him,” she whispered. “I don’t want to smile.”

Further and further she faded, until the mage looked like a pastel drawing, all pale, smudged hues. “My queen. Ayaka. I’m going to break my rule again. I did it for Arthur before he left to face Lucius Tiberius in battle. I do it now before you return to him. There is very little you could do now to drive Lucius Tiberius away. He’s already too far fallen. But, if you seek happiness, if you want the wonderful ending that hangs before you like a beam of sunlight, you need him. Without Lucius Tiberius, _you will not win._ ” 

She knew they were coming but the words sliced through her anyway. _Stuck with him forever. We’re really stuck with him. Oh, Arthur!_

Lips like mist touched Ayaka’s brow, gently. “If not for yourself, then for Arthur, right? I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were still dark and lively in a body that seemed made of dust. “I wish I could show you what I see.” Then the wind blew and she was gone, a few white roses petals drifting down in her place.

 

Quietly, Ayaka watched them settle on the grass. Long streaks of sun touched them, turned them fiery. The sun was setting, she saw, Merlin’s tower growing rosy with low-burning light. _What now?_ she thought, feeling calmly empty. _Do I just wake up?_

Her heart throbbed. She felt a small pinch, almost a tug, just under her breastbone. Without really thinking, she turned towards it. “Arthur,” she said aloud, and the pull grew more definite. Slowly, she began to walk, then to run.

 _I just want to see him,_ she thought as she skimmed over the grass, following the line sunk deep in her heart. _We don’t need to talk. He doesn’t have to tell me anything. Just see him. Just know that he’s okay. That we’re okay, despite everything._ The pressure grew more intense as she ran, the ground yielding under her feet. She was in a forest now, the trees standing aside like guards of honor as their queen darted past. Laughter drifted on the wind. There was a thicket ahead, almost like a tunnel and she suddenly knew, with complete certainty, that she would find Arthur waiting for her, just beyond the end--

“Stop,” a woman’s voice--her voice--said calmly. “You can’t come any further.”

Ayaka skidded, nearly pitched herself into a nearby thorn bush. Frightened and angry, she whirled to find her own face looking placidly back at her from under the hood of a long blue cloak, hands clasped demurely at her waist.

“What--what do you mean, stop?” Ayaka said through the noise of her pounding heart as the other Ayaka regarded her gravely. “As...as the queen, I think I have a right to go where I want! Even if you look like me, why should I listen to you? Are you some kind of trick? Did Merlin put you up to this? Knowing that I’d go looking for Arthur?”

Her other self smiled. “No, it wasn’t that idiot mage. I’m here because you told me not to let you through,” she replied. “As the queen. You said, and I quote: ‘I’m going to try and rush over here like an idiot, so please go stand in front of me and don’t let me get past the thicket, okay?’”

 _Ugh, that does sound like me. If this is a trick, it’s a really good one._ Most of her anger sagged and died. “Still,” she countered feebly, “since you apparently aren’t me, what’s the point of looking like me, except to mess with my mind?” Though, now that she was taking a better look, her other self seemed to be a few inches taller--how could she have missed that? And while the face was nearly identical, there were small differences, around the mouth, the line of her nose and chin--

“Bran?” Another woman’s voice, not far away. “Ohhhh Braaaaan--” She was laughing, her voice sweet and bright. “Where are you? Are we playing hide and seek?”

The woman started and whirled around, her hood falling back. One hand pointed at the ground as she chanted a low murmuring line. Shadows thickened, leaves unfurling to cover the gaps in the hedge, further closing them in. She stopped, breathing deeply, her back still to Ayaka. A long tangle of hair much unrulier than Ayaka’s, curling away from her shoulders in small tendrils, one tuft at the top of her head pointing to the sky--

 _Cowlick! Cowlick!_ Ayaka’s heart punched her ribs. _That’s **totally** Arthur’s cowlick!_ Hadn’t she stroked it smooth as they were laying together earlier? Watched with delight as it sprang back up again? Kissed it, taking note of how it was just a little bit coarser than the rest of Arthur’s fine golden hair?

 _Does this mean...that she’s..._ Her mouth was dry, her body shaking with each beat of her heart. _That Arthur and I...?_

“Bran?” The second woman was coming closer. “You’re scaring me, you know.” Laughter still bubbled in her voice. “Why don’t you answer? Father’s looking for you, it’s almost time to eat.” She paused. “Bran? Branwen? I know you’re here. Come on.” Fingers, slim and white, picked at the hedge, found the tiny gaps still remaining, tried to make a space. Ayaka caught a bright flash of cloth through the trees, a sleeve or a scarf. “Annie?”

The woman named Branwen muttered something that sounded like “damn airheaded sisters!” under her breath and grabbed Ayaka’s shoulders, pushing her back the way she came. “You have to go! Please! You’re not supposed to be here anyway and if...Seren...sees you it’ll cause no end of trouble. Go! Now!”

“Wait!” She twisted, trying to take one more look. “Please! Are you--are you my--” The words shook in her mouth. “Arthur and my...my daughter?”

Branwen stopped. Then her arms were around Ayaka, holding her tight. “You’re so young, Mother! I almost can’t believe it’s really you!” she murmured, a catch in her voice like oncoming tears. She pulled back, smiling, her eyes very bright. “Does that answer your question?”

Darkness churned around her, shot through with rainbow light. It settled over her, seeped into her mind. “I’m sorry, Mother,” Branwen whispered and stepped back, wiping tears away. Ayaka’s feet left the ground and she was rising--no, she was waking up. Frantic, she reached for her daughter, needing to stay, to talk, to hold her. 

“You won’t remember anything about me,” she called as Ayaka merged with the lavender blue of the sky. “Only what that idiot mage told you. Be strong, mother and you’ll see me again, though it’ll be a while.” Avalon’s colors began to run together, the land collapsing into a soft, vivid smear. “Fifteen years--but that’s nothing compared to the fourteen hundred I’ve been waiting for you and Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't let merlin's cute face fool you, she's just as much of an annoying freak as her counterpart. also, she is not strong with the empathy, though she is trying. kind of.
> 
> things that were not originally planned for this chapter: manaka attacking ayaka in her dreams. she wasn't meant to get actively involved this early. once i'm done with the fic i'm going to write out a whole list of all the stuff that was not originally planned. which is like half the fic at this point.
> 
> branwen is an interesting one. this is actually her second time around as arthur's daughter (she was one of the three girls he was watching in the flashback). she was born with a lot of magical power and used to go around foretelling the future and freaking out the general population of camelot. from the beginning, she insisted that gwenhwyfar wasn't her "true mother" and got punished for that. a lot. needless to say she and gwenhwyfar didn't get along. she also tried to warn arthur about mordred but she also knew that nothing she could say would stop anything. 
> 
> after arthur's death, she and her sister stayed in the abbey they'd been sent to after gwenhwyfar's adultery was discovered and were more or less forgotten about by the rest of the kingdom. olwen, the youngest, married and had a child (she's the one grey from case files is descended from in this 'verse) but died super young. eiddwen, the oldest, married an extremely rich man, had no children, was widowed relatively young and spent the rest of her life being rich and powerful and ordering people around.
> 
> branwen booked it the hell out of the abbey after olwen was married and took to the woods, where she spent the rest of her life being the local witch and herbalist and ignoring bedivere, kay and eiddwen's well-meaning pleas to Stop Living In The Dirt Like A Peasant And Come Home. obviously she's the only non-blonde of arthur's children, which caused comment when she was born and caused even more comment once gwenhwyfar's relationship with lancelot was discovered. gwenhwyfar's adultery had really bad consequences for her daughters and their lives were really messed up because of it.
> 
> i wonder sometimes if arthur sentenced gwenhwyfar to burn at the stake for treason like artoria did. somehow i can't see that, mostly because it's one thing for artoria to do it, because she's not husbando, but arthur is, and having the guy you're trying to push as husbando sentence his wife to burn is not something that would go over well with the female fans they're trying to court, methinks.
> 
> next time: ayaka vs. lucius tiberius, the final round.


	21. Chapter 21

AN: hahaha, this is almost 10000 words, it's getting its own chapter. besides, i like the number 22 more than 21 anyway.

real AN below, as always.

 

A golden sea danced in her eyes, and then she blinked. Arthur. Arthur’s hair, her face buried in it, arms wound tightly around his neck. He slept, face drawn, eyes heavy, mouth turned in a slight frown. Ayaka looked him over, from his thick golden eyelashes to the small mole in the hollow of his throat, loved and noted every part of him and her heart flared and burned even more fiercely.

 _I’m alive,_ she thought and flexed her fingers carefully, so not to wake him. _I’m back._ Heart, normal, lungs, normal--everything set right again. _Arthur!_ Silken hair under her lips as she kissed him, again and again. _I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear. Manaka will never touch you. I’ll kill her myself first._ “Arthur,” she whispered, full of love and fear, and he stirred.

“Ayaka!” Startled green eyes swept over her from head to toe, assessing her, seeking out danger. “Did I wake you?” His hand went to her cheek. Stroked her anxiously. “How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

They both looked at the crystal that lay against her heart, its quiet green glow. “Mostly. Physically, I feel fine.” The other necklaces sprawled in a heap on the nightstand: she picked one free, slipped it over her head. Slipped the other off, put it with the others. The new necklace stayed pale and dim, and she heard Arthur exhale. “So, yeah, no problems there. But...”

“What is it?”

Her fingers plucked at the coverlet. “You...you have to promise me that you won’t...go running out of here with Excalibur, okay?”

“Ayaka?”

She lay down again. Patted his pillow. “This is going to take a while,” she said quietly, and felt her heart twist at the growing look of apprehension in his eyes.

Manaka, dancing among dark stone, dragging her to the Beast. Flowers blooming from the walls, sweeping her away to Merlin and Avalon. Manaka, a human-shaped tool crafted by unknown hands to bring forth the Beast so Arthur could destroy it. Incapable of loving, but dreaming herself so, connected to the Root, powerful beyond measure. Needing to take joy when and how they could find it. Pain today for happiness tomorrow, a wonderful future right in front of their fingers, but only if Lucius Tiberius fought alongside them.

Without him, you will not win.

There was more, but try as she might, she couldn’t clearly remember anything past that point. Flowers and birds. Laughter and something blue. That was all.

When she fell silent, Arthur closed his eyes, said nothing himself for a long space of time. Anxiety started to pinch within her. “Arthur?”

He turned on his side, away from her. “Please. Give me a minute.”

Sick with worry, she waited, picking at the skin around her nails. Arthur’s back was rigid, his head slightly bent. Quietly, he began to talk to himself, first in Welsh and then in Japanese, his voice sounding as if it was coming from the bottom of a deep well. “Not human,” he muttered. “From the start, there was never any hope. Blind. How could I have been so blind?”

“Arthur?” she whispered.

He spoke on, as if he hadn’t heard her. “I am made to slay beasts: no sooner does one fall by my hand than another spring up. But this one was never truly slain: again, my fault. God forgive me. I understand now. Everything has been sent to shape me to this end. I shall take what the Lord hath giveth and bear it gladly, for all that I love best in this world.”

 _“Arthur.”_ Shaking, she touched his shoulder, tried to bring him back towards her. “Please, let’s talk about this together--”

“But,” he said, and turned so suddenly she had to roll to avoid smacking into him, “how am I to protect you if Manaka can kill you in your dreams?”

“Oh! Oops! Forgot to mention that, didn’t I? I might have tweaked Avalon just a bit while Queen Ayaka and I were talking.” Merlin’s voice, out of the air, as clear and perfect as if the mage was standing right next to them, but she was nowhere to be seen. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ “Yup, nothing to worry about now. That path is shut to her and will stay that way. So, sleep in peace, everyone! There won’t be any silly little murder attempts from that quarter anymore but unfortunately I can’t guarantee that your waking hours will be murder-free. Ta!”

“Merlin?” Arthur jumped out the bed, twisting frantically towards each corner of the room. “Merlin?” Silence answered, but still he hunted, throwing aside curtains, peering behind furniture and into closets. Finally he returned to the bed, weary sorrow in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered as Ayaka hugged him, tried to kiss the pain out of his face. “Why does she not come to me? She, who was my friend for ten years? I know she is a creature of whims, but...”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back, but an image flashed in her mind: Merlin’s face, empty of cheer, as she gazed up at the shimmering crystal that imprisoned her. _I didn’t care until he came, and even then--_

Thinking of that reminded her of something else, and she seized upon it, glad of the distraction. “Arthur, does the word ‘Seren’ mean anything to you?”

He looked slightly surprised. “Yes, of course. It’s the word for “star” in modern Welsh, _steren_ in my day. Why?”

A white hand plucking at a hedge. Laughter, sweet as roses. “I’m...I’m not sure. I told you everything I could remember clearly, but that part of the dream’s all hazy. Was it something Merlin said?” She rubbed a hand against her neck in frustration. “And...oh, it won’t come back to me--” Blue, something blue, draped over her face. “Bran?”

“Black bird. Raven. A bird of portent. Of power.” Arthur’s face stilled. “Was there a raven in your dream? They do seem drawn to you now.”

“No? Maybe? There were birds, but I didn’t really see them. They were flying overhead. I think.” Ayaka slumped back against the pillows. Closed her eyes. “Why are some parts so clear and the rest just not?”

Arthur’s hand gently smoothed her hair, came to rest on her cheek. Sighing, she turned her face into his touch. “Dreams are chancy, fleeting things, and more often ridiculous than not. Which, come to think of it, is also a perfect description of Merlin herself,” he said, with a slight grimace. “Although... _bran_...black birds...” A tiny smile darted over his lips. “Come to think of it...I didn’t mention it at the time, but shortly after I was summoned--” 

She leaned closer. “Yes?”

“I had a dream. About you, in fact.” His mouth twitched, as if he was holding back a wider smile. 

“Me?” she said, startled. “What about? My past?” _Not that there’s been anything in my life worth smiling over for the last few years,_ she though with a pinch of bitterness. _Unless--Crap, that stupid Halloween costume! If he saw that, I’m gonna shrivel up and dieeeeeee--_

“No, it was nothing realistic,” he replied, to her immense relief. “More like a scene from an old tale, in fact. You were alone, lovely in a blue gown, sitting in a sunlit grove blooming with flowers, each more perfect than the last. Though, none was more beautiful than my queen.” Softly, his lips touched her forehead. “And in your arms, you cradled a flock of black birds, smiling tenderly down at them as if each one were more precious than gems.”

“What the heck? Really? Is this another one of your jokes? Arthur!” He was smiling again, his eyes merry. “Seriously? You really had a dream like that about me? Why didn’t you say something? Just how long have you been having weird dreams about me, anyway?” 

His face sobered, though his eyes still danced. “Merely the one. I said nothing, since, as you said, it was weird. We barely knew each other, and I did not want to frighten or discomfit you. But it was a sweet dream, calm and happy. There was no shadow of omen about it, nothing that warranted concern. How could there be, when such a feeling of warmth and love pervaded it? No, those birds spoke of joy, I am sure of it.” His gaze drifted away from her, turned pensive. “Unlike...”

He was quiet for so long she finally poked him. “Unlike?”

His eyes closed again. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I...” He sighed. “Once, in a great while, I dream true. I had such a dream the night I left Britain to travel to the continent. To face Lucius Tiberius.” His eyes opened, looked not at her, but into the distance. “In that dream, a dragon and a great bear fought for control of a land. The battle raged on and on, as both sides were evenly matched. But then the dragon spat fire, immolating the bear, and achieved victory at last.” Pain shadowed his voice. “And needless to say--” 

“You burned Lucius Tiberius to death,” she finished in a whisper, and felt her heart twist. Felt tears gather. _Why,_ she thought, with dim surprise, _does that hurt? He’s still here, that damned stupid bastard, and I’d like to murder him myself._

 _Don’t look at me, Ayaka._ His hands, turning her away. His face, so pale, unsmiling. _I’m not a pretty sight._

“Yes.” Arthur’s fingers curled into hers. “Thinking of it now, I believe my earlier dream of you was a true one as well. It had the look. But tonight, while you were sleeping, I had another dream.”

“And it wasn’t a good one,” she whispered, dull fear turning in her heart at the look on his face, the tight grip of his hand in hers.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “I cannot deny it was an ominous dream.” He bit his lip. “Yet--” 

“Tell me. _Please.”_

“Ravens filling the sky like stars. A sun that was not a sun but a great disk of blood, dripping crimson into a black sea that smothered the land and everything upon it. But you were safe, high above the sea, which would never touch you, for flowers wound about you and the ravens flung their feathers like a shield of gleaming daggers. And that was all that mattered.”

“Where were you?” she whispered.

Arthur’s eyes closed. “I stood between you and the sea.”

“But were you all right? Arthur!” His face was rapidly assuming the icy distance she had seen when Lucius Tiberius had died. “Please, Arthur! Tell me!” A tear slid down her cheek, followed quickly by a second. Ten more. “I just found you! I don’t want to lose you again so soon!” _I can’t. I can’t. I can’t lose you, my Arthur, **please**..._

“I faced the sea, Excalibur in hand, protecting you. You were safe, and would stay so. That was all that mattered,” he repeated, his face a smooth emptiness, and she twisted away from him, eyes burning with grief.

“Ayaka.” Gently, he turned her face back to his, wiped hot tears away from her sorrow-filled eyes. Kisses, soft and full of love, on their joined hands, on her cheek, her hair. “I am a man long dead. If I must give this assumed life in order to prolong yours, I will, without hesitation.” The shell of his face cracked then, deep pain and longing shining through the faults. “Even if something should happen to me, you must live a long, wonderful life, so you will have many stories to tell me when we sit in Avalon together.”

The pain in her heart swelled. Snapped her open. She grabbed at him, clutched him, pulled him to her, tighter and tighter, until she was sobbing against his heart. “Oh, Ayaka. Beloved, my own precious beloved. Please don’t cry. All shall be well. I swear it,” he murmured, rocking her back and forth, stroking her hair. “We know that Merlin spoke of necessary pain, of good triumphing through evil. Perhaps this seeming darkness is necessary for joy to follow. And Ayaka, think on this: how could the first dream I had be so loving and peaceful if tragedy threatened? Surely it was a sign of happiness coming.”

“That’s-that’s true,” she whispered. Slowly, the tears stopped falling. _There’s no way I would be that happy without him._ “But why weren’t you in that dream?”

“I don’t know,” he said, voice low. Pleading slipped into his face. “However, I am certain that it foretold the wonderful ending Merlin prophesied. Please believe me, Ayaka. I would never raise your hopes if I felt there was the slightest chance of disappointment. All will be well. I swear.”

She bowed her head. _If I tell you, you start trying...and so much goes wrong...Keep going, no matter what._ “Yes,” she said, her voice soft, and steady despite everything. “I believe you. Everything will be all right.”

 _Are you awake, Ayaka?_ Lucius Tiberius in her mind, quieter than she’d ever heard him. Almost tentative. She froze. Worry crept through his voice. _How are you feeling?_

Arthur touched her cheek. His eyes anxiously searched hers. “Is it Lucius Tiberius?” he whispered.

Her nod was more like a jerk. _Still alive, no thanks to you,_ she bit back, and Rider flinched. Went silent for a bit. _Do you feel up to getting out of bed?_ he finally said, his voice even softer. _So we can talk?_

 _Talk?_ Anger was seeping through her like white lava. _Talk? Why the hell would I want to talk to you, you bastard, reptile, useless, no-good, lying Emperor--_

 _Please?_ he whispered, every letter blurred with pain.

_**Without him, you will not win.** _

She gritted her teeth. Merlin’s twilight eyes looked calmly back into hers. Good out of evil. Sacrificing today for a lifetime of happiness tomorrow. _Fuck._ She threw the covers off. How dare he sound so subdued and...and miserable. “Sure we can talk,” she muttered. The green robe tangled around her feet as she began to climb out of bed. “We can talk plenty, just let me murder you a few thousand times first--” 

Arthur caught her arm. “I’m coming too.”

Her heart contracted. _Why can’t you let me protect you?_ “No. Please. I want to--I _need_ to deal with him alone.” She touched his hand with her own cold one. Stroked him reassuringly. “I know you’re worried, but you can’t chaperone me forever. I’m going to have to be alone with him at some point.” Arthur’s mouth was thin with frustration. “Remember, we--” 

“--need him,” he finished harshly. “By God, no matter how terrible it was, I have never once shirked my duty. But how tempted I am to do so with this.” The bitterness in his voice made her stomach hurt. She put her arms around him, kissed his cheek. Felt him relax slightly. 

“Though,” he murmured into her hair, “I will admit that I’m not sure if I should be more anxious for you, or for Lucius Tiberius.” Ayaka pulled back to look at him, found his mouth turned up in his wonderful, teasing smile. “My avenging Ayaka, as beautiful and terrible as an army with all its banners.” 

“ _You’re_ terrible,” she groaned, but happiness danced within her. Gently, she punished him with kisses, on his forehead, his throat, the warm place behind his ear. His mouth, over and over again, and he took his scolding gracefully, his body hot and strong in her arms.

Ayaka pulled away finally. Desire was biting at her again, her sex wet and aching, while the Sword Emperor fidgeted around the edges of her mind. “I should go,” she said reluctantly and turned to slide out of bed.

Arthur’s arms came around her from behind. Pulled her against his heart. “Please be careful,” he whispered.

She nodded, kissed him quietly, and left.

 

The Sword Emperor was pacing the corridor outside their room when she emerged. He stopped as she yanked the door shut, hands clasped behind his back, body swathed in a dark embroidered robe. Fear, regret, longing, sorrow, all massed like smoke at the back of her mind. How much his, and how much hers?

She marched up to him, watching the pale coin of his face in the dusk of the hallway. God, how she hated the height he had on her. “Well?” she snapped. “I’m here. Talk.”

He looked at her. She couldn’t see his expression very well in the dim, but it was plain he wasn’t smiling. “Damn you, say something. Open that big mouth of yours and--” 

Lucius Tiberius pulled her up into his arms and hugged her tightly.

Ayaka hung on his shoulder, paralyzed. Arms like steel around her, face and mouth wet against her neck. Soft, rapid breathing against her skin, a stumbling sort of kiss at the join between her neck and shoulder. A sweet, hot pain nudged between her thighs, made her tremble as more kisses pressed against her skin and then his head came up, caught her mouth. Desperate, anxious kisses, tongue deep in her mouth and all the while his arms went tighter and tighter around her. _Bastard, stop, it’s too soon, it’s too soon,_ she thought and gave his hair a good, hard yank.

His head dropped back to her neck, pressed so close she could feel his eyelashes moving against her skin. “Thank all the gods, praise them, exalt them,” he said, voice muffled. “I thought you were going to die. But you’re all right, you’re fine.” Rider shivered, and something hot and wet slid down over throat and breast. A sweat drop? A tear? “Ayaka. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you--”

“Put me down,” she said quietly, and after a moment of hesitation, he did.

Her feet were unsteady in the thick carpet, her heart pounding in the cage of her ribs like it wanted to leap out and strike him. “You never meant to hurt me. _You never meant to hurt me._ What the hell do you think you’ve been doing all this time, bastard?” Rage curled her fingers, spun her voice into a snarl. “Pain--everything about you is pain, you-” 

“Not here,” he said with a glance at the door, but anguish snapped between their minds until Ayaka slammed her own door, leaving her clean and empty. “I had a place prepared for us earlier. We’ll talk there instead.” Lucius Tiberius looked at her. One hand lifted slightly, then dropped again. “Are you able to walk? If you’re too sore, or too shaky, I’ll happily carry you.”

A tide of blood rose to her cheeks. “Of course I can walk,” she muttered, wadded the robe in both fists and set off down the hall he indicated, head held high.

Five minutes was enough to show her that taking the few steps from her bed to the Emperor was quite different from trying to walk normally down a hallway that stretched for miles and miles. Ayaka gritted her teeth, forced herself to keep pace with him. Ignored the glances he kept sending her over his shoulder. “We’re almost there,” he said, soft and knowing, and she wished him dead under her heels.

They came at last to a set of carved doors, red-stained, taller than her house. “We’re here,” Lucius Tiberius said, and flung the doors wide.

Windows were the first thing Ayaka saw. The east wall was floor to ceiling glass, curving overhead to a ceiling of sapphire inlaid with constellations in silver and gold. Beneath the false sky stretched a pool tiled in pale rose, water shimmering like mother of pearl in the soft light of curled lamps. Marble floors, slick and warm under her feet. Herbs in the air, bitter heady blossoms. 

“I had the pool emptied, and turned into a bath,” the Emperor said, gesturing at the dark ornate benches that lined both ends of the room, the small matching tables, neat stacks of pure white towels. “I’m not one for swimming--but all Romans need a proper bath in their home. And a good bath will relax you, make you feel better.” He shrugged the robe off, dropped it on a bench. Strode towards the water. Scars, brown and red and white and every color in between sprawled over his back, his thighs, his...butt. He began to descend the stairs to the water, then stopped and looked back at her. “Coming?”

Dumbstruck, she glared at him. _I haven’t even seen Arthur’s butt yet. Why does he keep stealing all my firsts from me? First kiss, first... grope, first...argghh... first butt. Not fair!_ Slowly, her fingers worked the knot of her robe free, eased the silk away from her body. She felt suddenly small, and shy, alone with him in this crystal room. Screwing the glare onto her face, she neatly folded her robe and placed it on a bench, then came towards the water, eyes fixed on the far end of the room.

Lucius Tiberius held out a hand but she ignored it, using the rail to ease her way down the stairs into the water. “It’s not too hot, is it?”

Silently she shook her head and sat down on one of the lower steps, curling her knees to her chest. It was a little uncomfortable, she admitted to herself, but she’d get used to it in time. And it did feel good on her lower belly and thighs.

“I had my people add herbs that comfort and speed healing to it,” he said, settling down besides her. A broad arm tucked around her shoulders, hand gently rubbing her upper arm. Comfort? She bent her head to hide her grimace, but fingers slipped under her chin. Lifted her face to meet concerned violet eyes.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right, sweetheart?” he murmured. “If you’re not, don’t try to force your way through it.”

God, he was infuriating. “I’m fine,” she muttered, and pulled away, hunching further into herself. “Totally, completely fine.”

Softly his hands skimmed her shoulders, lightly pressed points along her shoulder blades, her spine. “Really? You’re fine? But you’re so very tense, darling,” he whispered. Two hands, spanning her entire back, reminder again of how small she was before him. “Relax. Please. You’ll feel better. Relax. I’ll help you.”

Fingers, moving a little harder, picking apart a knot in her right shoulder. Thumbs, pressing deep into her skin. Warm pressure on her neck, her shoulders, her spine. Fingers, caressing her breasts, stroking between her thighs, slipping inside her, bringing her briar-wrapped bliss, while Arthur watched, his face a stone mask over his agony. She shuddered. Jerked away.

“Enough,” she snarled into her knees.

The hands paused. Lay quietly against her skin, their heat seeping within her, touching her heart with their fire. Then Lucius Tiberius draped his arm back around her, hand curving around her shoulder, keeping her bound to him.

Silence. Water eddied around her shins, small ripples of rainbow tossing in the light. Ayaka watched through half-shut eyes, slightly dizzy, and sick with heat and anger. Rider stretched one long leg out into the water, pushed a foot back and forth, made waves bounce and slap against their skin. His hand was hot iron against her shoulder. Silence. She took a slow, trembling breath and waited.

It didn’t take long. “Sweetheart, I know you’re angry with me--” 

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

His hand tightened, just a little. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I mean it. I never intended to hurt you. If I had known of the danger, I would have done things very differently, gone easier on you. Acclimated you slowly.” His lips touched the nape of her neck and she shook all over, a wash of flame consuming the last of her self control. 

Ayaka kicked away from him. Plunged into chest-deep water, struck out for the far end of the pool. Heard the splash of him following. One hand caught hold of her arm. She turned to him, teeth bared, water nearly over her shoulders, toes barely touching the pool’s bottom. The Sword Emperor looked down at her, his face weary but patient, and the flames billowed and leapt higher.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetheart,” she mimicked, anger chewing holes in her voice. “Do you even listen to yourself, do you _think?_ Every since we’ve met, you’ve done nothing but hurt us. Over and over again. You kicked me, forced me, forced _us,_ made us marry you...”

“I do what I need to. That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.” Annoyance prickled in his voice, not quite smothered by patience. “I needed to see how much Arthur cared for you, so I chose my method accordingly. Neither of you would stay with me willingly, so force had to be applied to keep you where you belonged. With me.”

_“We don’t belong with you.”_

“Oh yes, you do. Everything is Rome. Rome is everything. And I am Rome.” A small smile touched Lucius Tiberius’s mouth. “Arthur is special, though. He’s my other half. We were always meant to be together, be one. But since he’s my opposite, he comes at everything from the other end. I love, he hates. I had no choice.”

She stared at him. A film of ice crawled slowly over her body at the look on his face, his brilliant eyes. “You’re insane.”

A soft touch on her lips. Fingers smoothing back her hair. “You do love that word,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not crazy, darling. Just pragmatic. I don’t crave your pain. Nor do I need it. I won. You’re mine now, both of you. The past is dead. So is the pain that came with it. I won’t ever hurt you again, lovely. Believe me.” A faint note of pleading slipped into his voice. “I’ll make everything up to the two of you, every bit of pain, every hurt, every sorrow. I’ll give you both happiness beyond anything you’ve ever known. You’ll see. I promise you.”

 _Pain today for happiness tomorrow._ “How do you know,” she said, very quietly, “that we’ll want the happiness you’ll give?”

Lucius Tiberius gave her an amused look. “I told you; Arthur and I are as one. I know what he wants, what he needs, his secret cravings, his soul. Lovely, Arthur needs me to give him everything he wants but can’t allow himself. Release. Freedom. Peace. Watch me. I’ll swing my sword, burn down everything that plagues him. I’ll protect him. For once in his life, the burden is no longer his alone. I’ll take care of everything so he won’t have to. All of the things that haunt his dreams, all the ugly deeds he’s done and will do in the name of peace, I’ll take them up instead.” 

Ayaka trembled as Rider’s caressing fingers moved to her neck, glided down to her shoulders. “And once the Grail is mine, I’ll give him the chance to be the king he never was. No dead children. No more war. Everything one, under our hands, peaceful and prosperous.” Lips on her forehead, tender, close to loving. A hand cupping her cheek. Lucius Tiberius looked at her, confident and pleased. “And if he’s happy, you’re happy. Isn’t that right, my darling?”

A strange dreamy feeling unfurled within her as she looked up into those violet eyes, shining with happy certainty. Red flames and fog. Hot lead dropping over her heart, bit by bit, encasing it, and her body buckling fast under the weight. “The Grail is a lie,” she said with a thick, slow tongue, “and you sound just like my sister. Who, by the way, tried to kill me in my sleep tonight.”

Fear smashed open the door she’d slammed earlier, gushed in like a winter sea, but she was past caring, damp and drowsy with the satisfaction of seeing blank-faced horror instead of happiness on that thin, hateful face. “What?” Hands on her shoulders but she couldn’t feel them. Was he shaking her? Was that why she trembled? “How? Are you all right? No, of course you’re all right, Arthur would have been storming the Grail otherwise, but I’m calling my mages, they need to check you, make absolutely sure.” Nervous, bloodless babbling, panic poking and prodding all over her mind, little drops that couldn’t compete with the crucible within her. “This won’t happen again, I swear. Ani-” 

She stopped him with a shove. “Don’t bother. I drove her off with Merlin’s help, and she strengthened Avalon so Manaka won’t ever be able to do it again.” Ayaka laughed a little, dry and hard. Her eyes were beginning to sting. She could no longer feel her feet, or much of anything really, only the wet flames feasting on her heart. “So much for your “protection” though, right? You had no idea. So smug, so knowing, you know everything you bastard, you decide everything, what’s best for him, just like Manaka and _who cares what he wants?”_

Her voice echoed and rang off the shining windows until it was a hundred voices, a thousand, all screaming in unison until the walls shook down. _“You don’t get to decide for him, you don’t get to decide!_ Oh my god, what gave you the right? Hurting us over and over again for your own selfish ends, love doesn’t make it right, _love doesn’t make you right,_ I hate you, I hate you, I hate you and we’re stuck, we’re married for eternity, and Arthur’s so good, if you love him why can’t you leave him alone?” She pounded her fists against his shoulders, against the arms that held her so tightly, biting and scratching, weeping and clawing. “I hate you,” she sobbed into the furrows in his skin, the bleeding lines she’d carved atop older scars. “Hate you, hate you...”

“I know you do, sweetheart. It’s all right. If hate is what you need, hate me all you want. Anything to make you feel better,” he said against her cheek. “I accept it, I’ll bear it.” She was being carried out of the water, placed gently on soft towels. Hard ugly tears shook her body continuously as arms cradled her, sweet words low into her ear. Darling, sweetheart, lovely. So sad. I know it’s hard. I’m sorry. I’ll make it better for you. Think of all the things you’ll have with me. With _us._ Nothing will be denied you.

I swear.

Tears, a fresh cascade of them.

“Shhh. Here.” Water, smelling of lemon and mint, pressed to her lips. “Cry all you need to, Ayaka, but drink this first, or you’ll dehydrate.”

Her throat was choked with feathers, her lips filled with pins. Tears mingled with the water she was drinking. More was offered, and she gulped it down. “It’s all right, darling, it’s all right. Get it all out. Don’t be ashamed of honesty.”

The tears began to subside after a third glass. Ayaka slumped on his shoulder, body drawn and aching under the hands that stroked gently up and down her arms and shoulders. Kiss after kiss dropped on the crown of her head. Pain moved and shook within her, but it was all her own, untouched by the Emperor.

 _What am I doing?_ she thought to herself. _I...I need to protect Arthur. I’m going to make him like me better. Why am I screaming at him? Why can’t I stop crying?_

Faint ashen pink in the sky, first fingers of light. Yesterday at dawn she’d been with Arthur, scared but determined, off to find Caster in her workshop--

Arthur hadn’t wanted her to go, at first. He’d wanted her to stay in the mansion’s strongroom, cocooned in spells, partnering him by crystal, safe from harm. Like a proper Master. If she had listened...if she had stayed at home like he’d wanted... 

_No. Nothing would have changed,_ a clear, flat voice said inside her. She would have stayed there, waiting, and Arthur would not have returned. Sometime later, there’d be a knock, and she’d open the door and standing there would be a tall red-haired man with a sharp white grin, sword in hand. No, none of this would have been spared them.

_Without him, you will not win._

No Lucius Tiberius, no victory. Manaka would dance over the face of the world, grinding it away to produce her ugly dream of a perfect kingdom. No Lucius Tiberius, no marriage. No Arthur. Avalon would not know her and...and...

Her face against dark branches. Black wings adrift in her mind.

 _So, he’s worth it. I guess._ The stars were going out, one by one, folding themselves back into a greater light. _To save the world, I’ve become a queen and an empress, and I went from someone who’s never been kissed to having two husbands, all in a day._ Sharp little giggles jabbed at her throat, worked through her clenched lips. _I’m the literal queen of paradise. I’ve been fucked backwards and forwards, turned upside down and inside out and the man who’s holding me so tenderly started our relationship off by threatening me, kicking me and trying to rape me. And now I’m his eternal Empress and need him to kill my Root-connected zombie of a sister before she ends the world in the name of my other husband, which is the wildest thing of all, isn’t it?_

“Ayaka? What’s wrong?” Rider said through her laughter, his voice so soft she barely heard him. 

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong,” she gasped, helpless with laughter. “I was just thinking about yesterday, when I was Ayaka Sajyou, plain old ordinary Ayaka Sajyou, meek and untalented, instead of the empress-queen...queen-empress, _whatever,_ of Rome and paradise. Funny, isn’t it? Me, a queen?” She caught a breath. “And--and it’s especially funny because I always knew I’d die in the Grail War, and I did, I did die! Old Ayaka is dead, she died the instant she decided to follow Saber to Caster’s workshop, even though I know she wouldn’t have gotten away from you in the end. Now she’s gone, and the queen-empress is in her place, and it’s just so _weird._ ” Tears dropped off her cheeks but she couldn’t stop laughing. “Don’t you think?”

“Sweetheart. Oh, sweetheart,” the Emperor whispered, his arms tightening. “You’re scaring me, just a bit.” Silently, he rocked her back and forth. Hands smoothed tears away, gave warmth to her body. Slowly calmed her laughter. “My sweet little beast,” he said finally, breaking their quiet. “Do you...would it make you feel...look, do you want Florent? I’ll give it to you if you want.”

She stared up at his face, floating in a kind of haze among the shadows. “Uh...what?”

“Or a knife?”

Ayaka shook her head. Closed her eyes. When she opened them again he was still watching her with that oddly tentative expression on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Stabbing me. Cutting me up, if it makes you feel better,” he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Darling, you’re a beast just like me. You’re worked up and frustrated because you want a fight. No. A brawl. Admit it,” he said when he saw her open mouth. “You’re hurting and you want to make me _bleed._ To rip and tear and take me apart. But, as a human, you can’t really do that. So you’d need some help--” 

_“No!_ You bastard maniac, what the hell is wrong with you? Crazy! You’re definitely crazy! Totally, completely crazy!” she hissed and smacked his shoulder, setting off a series of small explosions in her hand. “Ow!”

Lucius Tiberius snatched up her wounded hand. Kissed it. “No more of that. Fine. You don’t want Florent. No stabbing tonight. But if you ever decide otherwise--” 

“I won’t!”

“--let me know.”

“I won’t,” she grumbled into the hedge of his limbs and gave him an extra smack with her good hand.

Lucius Tiberius sighed. “So says my beast,” he whispered, sounding much more cheerful. “But I’ll have you beating me yet, just you wait and see.” His breath stirred her hair. “Don’t forget that I’m yours, darling. If you need something, anything, from me, don’t be ashamed to ask.”

She closed her eyes. Saw Arthur waiting for her in the darkness. _I’ll protect you. Better than anyone else in this world, I’ll protect you. My Arthur, my wonderful king. My savior. My love._ “I...do have something, actually.” 

Turning, she lay against him, pressed her breasts into his chest. Spread her legs wide on either side of him, looped her arms around his neck. Ruffled the short hair at the nape, looked up into amused violet eyes. “A request for my...for my husband,” she murmured, and followed her words with a kiss.

Slow, deep kisses, his tongue gentle in her mouth, stroking hers like a feather. Ayaka moaned a little, unable to help herself, and Lucius Tiberius’ arms went around her, skimmed down her back, squeezed her rear gently. Rubbed and caressed her. Slid lower. The memory of his fingers touching her _there_ suddenly broke in, made her pull away, breathing hard.

The Emperor’s eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed, smile sweet and a little pitying. “You really don’t need to seduce me to get what you want, darling,” he said and it was her turn to go red. “Ask away.”

“Fine. From now on, please...” She looked straight into his eyes. “Please come to me if you want sex. Fuck me, instead of Arthur. I’ll...I’ll do anything you want. _Everything_ you want.” _Even **that,**_ her mind added. “He...he needs to concentrate on battle, and--and it’ll just be easier...for the both of us for you to...use me instead--” 

“Oh, _sweetheart,_ ” he half-sighed, half-laughed and kissed her again, a little more fiercely, tongue sweeping over her lower lip. “Ayaka. I adore thee. Truly. Forgive the formality. But, you know as well as I do, sweetheart, that Arthur would never allow that.” He glanced away for a second, across the pool, to the darkness on the other side. “In fact, I’ll bet that the instant he has me alone, he’ll be making me the same offer. Fuck me instead of Ayaka. The two of you are very predictable.”

“Even if he says that, you don’t have to agree to it!”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, but I did make some vows. As did you.” The look on his face cut off futher protest. “You’re both far too nobly self-sacrificing, lovely. And in your rush to be more martyr-than-thou, neither of you are really thinking about the other’s pain, are you? It’s not easier for me to just fuck you alone, or fuck Arthur alone. If I caved to one, the other would be moping around, miserable with guilt. That’s more of a distraction for Arthur than me actually sleeping with him, lovely.”

“But--” 

“And the two of you promised yourselves to me completely in exchange for the world, body and soul. A package deal. I gave myself to you in return. I keep my promises. You need to keep yours. That means the both of you in my bed.” His eyes softened. “Separately though. I won’t make you both sleep with me at the same time again, until you’re ready for it. That was a mistake.” Rider held her closer. Kissed the tip of her nose. “My beautiful Ayaka. Think of it this way. We can make the bedroom our battlefield, let you work all of your aggression out on me there. Whips and chains, darling, if it pleases you.” Heat jerked between her legs and a small smile curved his lips. “I can show you what to do with Arthur, let you practice on me. Anything you want to try. Everything for you.”

 _Except what I really want,_ she thought bitterly, but he was right and she hated it. 

_But I’m not beat yet. There’s still another path. I can keep trying to seduce him. Keep him so busy with me that he won’t have much left for Arthur, make him a prisoner of my hands and mouth and body. Enslave him. You’ll crawl for me before this War is over, Lucius Tiberius. I promise you._ She sat up carefully, then slid down his body until she was crouching over his hips, right above his erection.

His... _oh, just say it Ayaka, you put it in your mouth! Dick! Cock!_ twitched against her thigh. She looked at it. Ran a slow finger up and down its length and Lucius Tiberius moaned. “Anything?” she murmured. The head was soft under her thumb as she rubbed circles, the slit beginning to show pearl. She stroked him lightly for another minute. Took her hand away. “Okay then. Touch yourself for me.”

“Ayaka?” he said, voice slightly slurred.

She settled back on the towels, away from him, lifted the necklace. Cradled the crystal in her palm. “Even with this, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to shove that enormous cock of yours inside me just yet. And...I want to see what you like. Do a good job, and I’ll let you...kiss me here.” She spread her legs, gently touched her folds. Gave her aching nub a quick stroke with her thumb and watched the Emperor’s eyes grow dark. _Yes, he likes this._ “And put your fingers here, if you want. Inside me.” She indicated lower with a blush and Lucius Tiberius licked his lips with a soft moan.

“Look.” Slowly she spread her legs wider, felt cold air on wet skin. Soaked, despite her nerves. “Lucius Tiberius.” Ayaka swallowed hard, her eyes on his face and ran her fingers over her sex. Caressed herself until she was burning. Offered her dripping fingers. With a moan, the Emperor took them and she clamped down on her own whimpers as he eagerly sucked them clean.

“Keep your legs open?” he whispered. She nodded, and smiling, the Emperor brought his palm to his mouth, then dragged his tongue over it, two long swipes.

“It helps if it’s wet,” he said, catching her confusion, and smirked. “Just like with you.”

Quietly, she watched as the Emperor sat back a little, spread his own thighs. His cock, dark and heavy, arched towards his belly. “Don’t know how long I can last, sweetheart,” he murmured, and looked at her through his lashes. The wet hand stroked his balls lightly. “But I’ll do my best. For you.”

“You’d better,” she replied, equally soft. “Or else--” She folded her hand over her sex. Rocked gently against her palm. “--I’ll be the one doing all the touching and all you’ll do is watch.”

“Don’t tease,” he gasped, crimson washing over his pale skin. Fingers firm at the base, he began stroking, slow bottom to top, thumb circling gently on the head, just as she’d done. “My sweet, cruel beast. Demanding I last while you watch me with your pretty legs spread wide and your gorgeous cunt soaking wet, waiting for my mouth.” He licked his lips, eyes locked on hers, brilliant with greed, half-closed with desperation. Her hand twitched. Yes. Horny and desperate was a very good look on him. Ayaka shifted, chewed the inside of her lip. Vaguely she noticed that his hand seemed to be moving faster. “You want to know what I like, darling? Unfortunately, I can’t give you the full picture right now, but--” 

“Why not?” His hips were starting to buck, but Lucius Tiberius kept an even rhythm, hand tight around himself, the other hand teasing his nipple. Pinching and stroking, cruelly working his own flesh, scarlet crescents wheeling over his skin. Rough fingers caressing her breasts, a hot tongue slowly mapping her body. Stinging bites, marks left deep in her neck, her breasts, her sex. Heat lapped at her and she pressed her hand more tightly against herself.

“No toys,” the Emperor said with a wicked grin. White dripped steadily onto his hand, and an insane desire to clean him leapt up in her. Earth on her lips. Thin soft skin against her tongue, and Lucius Tiberius shivering beneath her. “No beads, no dildos...ah, you’d be gorgeous with a harness, darling, fucking me.” 

Fire burst in her cheeks. “Shut up! Concentrate!”

“I am. Oh, believe me, darling, I am.” Rider moaned and closed his eyes, his smile wide and a little strained. “Though I do think you’d like sodomizing me, my sweetheart...my cruel little darling. And this era has even better toys, lots of ways to play. You, and me, and some vibrators inside--oh Gods.” His back was arching, his lip bleeding, groans slipping out of him. “Shit. Ayaka, I’m sorry...fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to come.” Gasping, he gave his cock one last hard pull, hips jerking helplessly and then his head went back with a moan as white covered him, pulse after pulse of it, sticky over his chest and face and hair. 

Ayaka sat motionless, parch-mouthed and aching, eyes on Lucius Tiberius as he dragged himself upright, breathing hard. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said again, quietly. “I didn’t do a very good job for you.” One hand swiped down his chest, taking white with it. Panting, he raised the hand, looked at it. Rubbed seed-soaked fingers together. “I don’t suppose you’d like to clean me?” he finally murmured, and glanced at her almost shyly.

“No,” she said firmly, remembering bitterness on her tongue. “I wouldn’t.”

Rider sighed. “Guess I’d better get to it then,” he said, and started to rise.

Her hands brought him back to earth. “Not so fast. Finish what you started, Lucius Tiberius,” she whispered, and pushed his head between her thighs.

“ _Darling._ ” A moan of delight, smothered by her skin. “You’re too good to me.” Tip of his tongue, the barest flick against her nub and she was whimpering, digging her fingers into his hair. Hands cradled her hips, lifted her, pulled her legs over his shoulders. “I can hold you up just fine like this. So, relax and enjoy, sweetheart,” he whispered and buried his face in her sex.

Deep breaths. Glittering stars in her eyes. Lucius Tiberius, sucking her nub, slow and thoughtful. Tongue stroking over her, circling, working against her, little teasing flicks, until she wanted to rip every hair from his head. Pulling away to rub her with his calloused thumb, the rough skin catching at her, honey-drenched pain, while he bit another kiss into her thigh, then went and made a matching mark on the other, teeth deep in her skin. Soft little bites up and down her folds, first the inner, than the outer. Sweet kisses, sharp teeth. Tongue pushing inside her, hot and unexpected and _weird_ , and she slashed at his neck and shoulders, felt him laugh.

Hands, spreading her wide, playing with her folds, stroking, pulling, teasing, making her arch and moan. Pleasure, ripping her apart, choking her, filling her body and mind with pins and needles. Long fingers, easily slipping inside her, her body entirely open to him and she hated that, hated the way her hips jerked eagerly towards him as he caressed that spot inside her, the one that broke her open and made her forget...

Teeth on her nub, gentle and fierce, until she bent and screamed, pleasure scattering her like ash from a fire. But he was still going, the bastard, just like before, his satisfied moans vibrating against her as he sucked each of her folds thoroughly clean, then her nub, long slides of his tongue, his fingers--

His fingers very gently brushed her below and she stopped breathing. 

Rider kissed her nub. Raised his head just enough for her to see his eyes. _I won’t if you don’t want me to,_ he said, first time back in her mind after she’d thrown him out earlier.

 _Breathe. It’ll be all right. I promised him. If I give him what he wants, and more, he won’t be after Arthur as much._ Ayaka swallowed, took a better grip on his hair. “I said ‘yes’ before, didn’t I?” she said, voice slow and careful. “Just...just please,” and here she was, breaking down again, trembling and hating herself for it. “Please, be gentle.”

“My sweet darling.” Tenderly, he kissed her and she shivered with the heat of it. “I will. And if anything bothers you, let me know. No more pain. Only pleasure.”

Fingers wetting themselves within her, slipping away. Hands moved her a little, eased her legs wider. Soft strokes, right at the place, light at first, then stronger and Lucius Tiberius kissing and sucking at her nub all the while. It felt good. It felt way too good and she scratched at his scalp, writhing.

 _So beautiful._ Very gently, the tip, pushing inside. She went still, a choked little moan escaping from her. Another breath and she was invaded up to the first knuckle, caressed and mapped. _Feels weird. Feels so weird,_ she thought, each letter coming to her from very far away. Lucius Tiberius began to nibble on her folds. She tried to concentrate on that, but the finger slid deeper, past the large knuckle, scorching and stretching. _Good, so good, you’re doing just fine, my lovely._

All the way in and a second finger moving to join the first. _Lie flat darling, it’ll be easier._ Slowly, she obeyed. Long fingers, so gentle, making her his. His tongue lapped at her folds, second finger almost completely inside, meeting the first and then they slowly moved apart. 

She was making a lot of noise, she realized dimly as the fingers moved, curling and stretching, jerking back and forth. Her hips were completely in the air, held up only by Lucius Tiberius as he sucked and worked her, her body entirely under his command. Fingers moving faster, a bite to her nub. Pleasure so total there was no room for Ayaka in her own body engulfed her, swept her into a rocking black sea. Gasping, she touched bottom, kicked away, made for the surface, and found herself kneeling on dry land, Lucius Tiberius calling to her, hugging her tightly.

Her hands hurt. Slowly, she loosened her fists, and saw, with tired satisfaction, the blood under her nails.

 

Afterwards he washed her, soaping her body, shampooing her hair, drying her carefully with soft towels. Constant kisses, hot hands on every inch of her skin until she snarled at him and he escaped, laughing, to the water, snatching a final kiss as he went.

Worn and a bit achy, towel-shawl draped over her shoulders, she sat at the pool’s edge, legs dangling, and watched him splash around as he cleaned himself, whistling as he scrubbed. She stirred the water with her toes, and thought of Arthur’s dream, of the bear and the dragon battling over the earth. _Bear? Maybe in size, but he looks much more like a wolf to me, with that narrow face and sharp white grin._ Bear, wolf, rooster. Emperor, Rider.

Husband. 

Cruelty and kindness braided together, bright and dark. A man who fell in love as easily as breathing and who held on to that love through death by fire and fourteen centuries, a man who went from seeing her as a toy to wanting her eternal after a few hours acquaintance. _I don’t understand that. I don’t understand him._

 _Don’t worry about that. Lust doesn’t need understanding and you’re doing a great job as is. I told you he’s very trainable, didn’t I?_ Merlin whispered in her ear.

An inferno sprang up in her head. _You better not have been watching!_ she howled, but the mage was gone, if she had ever been. A single note of laughter, first birdsong at dawn, echoed around her and then everything went quiet again.

She spent the next few minutes thinking of ways to murder Merlin, until Lucius Tiberius ducked underwater, swam back to her. Squeezed her foot and surfaced, flipping his hair off his forehead. One scar on his face after all, a white band that stretched from his hairline to his eyebrows. A little boy, bleeding on a marble floor. She turned away, pulled the towel up like a hood. Shut out all the splendor around her. _Arthur,_ she thought suddenly. _Don’t worry. I’ll be back with you soon._ Her shoulders were starting to curve with tiredness. _Please, just wait a little longer--_

“Thinking about something?” the Emperor asked. His big hands cupped her face and he kissed her, happy and teasing. Pulled away to study her face. “You’ve got that little wrinkle between your eyebrows again.”

She stared at his collarbone, at a bronze scar the size of her hand. A sigh slipped out. _Nope, definitely not going to say anything about that._ “I was just thinking about how weird you are. That’s all.”

A soft sound of mirth escaped him. “Oh, darling, I think you’re weird, too,” he said and pulled the towel down, so he could kiss her again. “My Ayaka, a beast that pretends to be a mouse, two women in one. And--” Another kiss. “--That’s why I like you.”

She scowled but felt it drop after a few seconds, too weary to stay. Rider looked at her. Quietly smoothed back her hair. “Arthur’s probably climbing the walls by now, and you’ve been through a lot tonight. You definitely need more sleep,” he said finally, and slipped an arm under her knees. “Come on, I’ll carry you back.”

“No!” she protested as he lifted her. “I can walk just fine. Besides, if you carry me, he’ll think something’s wrong. I don’t want him to worry.”

“Too late for that,” he said with a rueful grin. “Compromise: I carry you most of the way, set you down near the door so you can walk in yourself. Deal?”

“Fine.” No point in arguing with him if it got her back to Arthur faster. “Let’s go--and don’t forget my robe.”

 

The sun was flooding the air around them, limning shadows with gilt as they made their way back to the room. Lucius Tiberius set her down, kissed the top of her head, and, to her surprise, began to walk away.

“Wait.” He turned, gave her a questioning look. “Aren’t you coming in?”

His smile was crooked. “I have a Grail to win and a girl to kill. I’m going to meet with my people, go over our preliminary plans. Tell Arthur not to worry. I won’t move without him. However, I want you two to take it easy for a few more hours. It’s the least I can do.”

“I...see.” Ayaka wound the tassel of her robe around her finger, let it fall free again. “...Thanks.”

Rider’s grin flashed at her from the shadows, and then he was gone. 

Making sure her robe was tightly closed, she opened the door. Walked slowly inside. Arthur, fully dressed, looked up at her from the chair he was sitting in, hands clasped, and smiled.

With a cry she flew to him, to the arms that had waited so patiently for her, and against all reason, burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK. look at this video, which is an even better shorthand for the lucius tiberius/arthur/ayaka dynamic than that other pic! https://imgur.com/T1j4CWC
> 
> one of the kitties is even golden like arthur. :3
> 
> phew. this was...a lot. this is what happens when you kinda sorta know what happens, but not the exact details. also more sex writing, which i think i might have to take a vacation from because holy shit porn burnout is apparently a thing. good thing there's no sex in the epilogue, yay.
> 
> one thing i really like about lucius tiberius's design is that, unlike the other roman emperors we've seen, he's much more subdued, and shows that he's an emperor that actually puts Getting Shit Done over showing off how great he is. aside from his sweet coat, which is still way less flashy than anything we've seen the other emperors wear, he's not elaborately dressed. his armor is plain, it's functional. it's not golden, showy or more for appearance than actual defense. his armor means business. it looks like actual historical armor. it says "i am here to kick your ass." 
> 
> i think that's really interesting! especially given his bragging and his arrogance. the man thinks he's a god but doesn't really dress the part compared to his predecessors. he puts functionality over form. that's very different from every other roman and i wonder if anything will be made of it.
> 
> epilogue next. i'm hoping to have it out soon, because it shouldn't be very long, but solomon's coming and i still have babylonia to finish. we'll see.


	22. Epilogue

_So, this will be the last of our peace until the Grail War is over,_ Arthur thought as day slowly turned towards evening once more. _This bed, this quiet, and the two of us alone as we will never be again for the rest of our lives, throughout eternity._

Ayaka’s face was still for the moment, her breathing soft. Occasionally she would mutter something, whimper, toss back and forth. At those times he would hold her more tightly, stroke her hair, and she would press closer to him with a sigh, fall back into peace.

Was Lucius Tiberius walking through her dreams? Or Manaka, in memory, as she was no longer able to do so in reality?

Excalibur lay on the dresser, wrapped to the hilt in crimson silk. He had woken from the sleep they had fallen into after she had finally returned to him to find it waiting, gold and white in the dim, the first of the Emperor’s promises fulfilled.

“He didn’t do anything,” Ayaka had sobbed into his shoulder as he anxiously questioned her tears. “Really. It’s just...he just...” She took a breath. “He’s being too nice again,” she whispered, and he felt her fingers clench on his arm. “I hate that. I hate him. Hate it, hate it, hate it.”

“Why is he like that? I don’t understand,” she had whispered drowsily later on, after he had coaxed her to rest, her small head pillowed on his chest, warm body soft against his.

He thought of a thirteen-year old ambushed by his own father, of poison and gods and loss. Absolute power, bestowed upon, and wielded by, corrupted, grieving hearts. “Because of love,” he had finally replied. “Though that is reason, not excuse.”

Ayaka was asleep by then, and had been long since, so he merely kissed her cheek and let himself be lulled to sleep himself by the sound of her heartbeat.

 _I have never before slept like this, in the arms of someone beloved, who also loved me in return,_ he thought now, looking down again at his queen’s sleeping face. Softly, he touched her lips. _My joy. No matter what it takes, I will see you happy. This, I vow._

Yes. Everything for Ayaka’s happiness. Everything for his Lady, who had saved him. Everything for the love the Lord had miraculously granted him, despite his sins. Everything to make up for his failure. For not protecting her from Lucius Tiberius. For failing to see Manaka for what she truly was. For placing the dreams of the dead before the lives of the living. For that night at the Greater Grail, when her smiling sister had cast forth her own flesh and blood as mere meat to be devoured, for the twelve years of misery that had followed.

He had not been entirely truthful with Ayaka earlier: he had seen far more than he had admitted of her past. The distant cousin, pinch-lipped and sour-faced, who had arrived to raise the eight year old orphan. “The Sajyou family has been made a laughingstock, thanks to your sister and father,” she had said bitterly, as Ayaka stared at the floor, twisting the hem of her dress in her hands. “Disgraced. We have been utterly disgraced by their failure. To lose the Grail at the height of victory! Grandfather somehow still has hopes of the next War, but if your sister could not succeed, what can _you_ do?”

Six years of this, until Ayaka turned fourteen and the cousin left, saying her duty was done, Ayaka was now old enough to fend for herself. Unspoken but clear was the statement that she felt she had wasted enough of her time on a mage who would never amount to anything.

Four more years of school. Some bright spots, a few friends, but through it all were endless nightmares of another Grail War. Graduation, and the friends were gone, scattered to universities, something that mages did not do. Alone again, and the clock forever ticking towards her fate.

_All due to my folly. Everything my fault. The happiness I stole from her, I must repay._

Out of fear he had followed Ayaka and Lucius Tiberius as they left for their talk, watching and listening through the Sword Emperor’s eyes and ears with his quiet permission. Stood and watched, his heart corroding, as his beloved broke down, sobbing her grief and rage into Lucius Tiberius’s waiting arms. Heard her hysterical laughter. When Ayaka had made her last, desperate attempt to spare him-- _Fuck me, instead of Arthur_ \--he had left, unable to bear it any longer.

 _Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, quia peccavi nimis,_ he thought, and struck his breast in the place where it hurt most. 

Sin. The sea within his dream. The black sea of sin that had covered him as he stood between Ayaka and the blood-drenched world, filling his eyes and ears and nose, covering his mouth. His queen, weeping as she watched, safe above the sea that would never touch her, atop a tower of crimson, girded with lilies, the part of the dream he had not told her, the part that he never would.

 _Florent then, will safeguard her, as Lucius Tiberius promised. Good, for his sins rise higher than Babel and his road of penance be long and stony. He’d best get moving._ Bitterness chilled his blood. _And if he fails her, I will **personally** take it out of his hide._ Ayaka, trembling under the Emperor’s hands, moaning in a way she never did with him, in helpless overwhelming pleasure. In pain. Rider’s mouth between her legs, his manhood inside her, their eyes locked in a private battle he could only watch. Ayaka, hurt and hurt again, and now fated to lie in the Sword Emperor’s arms forever, unwilling recipient of his selfish kindness.

 _No._ With an oath he wrenched his mind away. If Lucius Tiberius kept Ayaka safe for the present and did nothing more to hurt her, he would count himself content. _As for myself...well, what comes, comes. If I suffer, it will be but just recompense for my failures. It may signify nothing more than the guilt I already bear._ The sea flowed not from the Grail, that he knew, or Manaka; it held a different darkness. But he had burned with love as he stood, burnt as well with the will to protect his queen from all harm, and that was all that mattered.

“Arthur,” she murmured suddenly, a little smile on her lips, and he wanted to lie at her feet forever.

 _Loath as I am to admit it, Lucius Tiberius was not wrong._ Gently, his fingers trailed over lip and cheek, hair as black as a raven’s wing. _He is not too high a price to pay for Ayaka...though how I wish it could be otherwise. But the Lord has decreed it so, and I must bear with it, and help her to do so as well._

Lucius Tiberius, necessary for success. For happiness. For the realization of the dream he had seen, where Ayaka had smiled down on a lapful of ravens with a mother’s tender love. _Bran,_ she had said, _it had something to do with my dream,_ and lightning had struck him. A dream of ravens that spoke of Ayaka as a mother, a dream-visit to whimsical Merlin, the dream-seer. Could it be? A daughter long lost to him, dark between her flaxen-haired sisters, a daughter who knew things no five year old should, who insisted, no matter how often she was scolded and punished, that Gwenhwyfar had not been her true mother.

 _Father,_ Branwen had sobbed at their last meeting, _it’ll be so long until I can see you again._

An impossibility that took his breath away, with no easy way to explain, and so he had kept his silence. Nor had he told Ayaka about the small, ruddy-furred bear cub that had been tumbling and playing at her feet.

 _She would have gone mad and probably tried to kill Lucius Tiberius tonight,_ he thought, looking down at her, smiling in sleep. _Even though the dream glowed with naught but love._ His heart twisted, just a little. _Even so, if this be the wonderful ending Merlin spoke of, I must confess that I am not entirely at ease with it myself. Yet how can this even come to pass? We are both dead men walking._

Blood and roses. Lightning in the air and the warm strange musk of a beast. _You awake, love?_

 _Farewell, peace,_ he thought to himself. _Yes._

A pause. _Is Ayaka still asleep?_

Arthur frowned. Something in the Sword Emperor’s mind... _Yes._

_...Let her sleep just a little longer then. Mind coming out here?_

_Very well._ Carefully, he untangled himself and rose, only to stumble as the still-sleeping Ayaka clutched his arm.

He had to smile. “Clingy, clingy. Shall I get you a doll of me?” he whispered teasingly, as he gently freed himself. “So you’ll never have to let me go? Sweet Ayaka.” A kiss, on her soft, rose-colored lips. “I love you. I’ll be back soon.”

 _I’m in the front room,_ the Emperor said as he stepped outside, Excalibur in hand, quietly shut the door. _There’s something here that you need to see._

Arthur’s pulse sped up. _Is something wrong?_

_Come and see._

It was a surprisingly short walk. There were voices in the air now, distant and serious, a feeling of preparation. _Of battle immanent._ Two soldiers in full armor waited before the door. They bowed with respectful murmurs of “Augustus,” gestured him inside. 

Lucius Tiberius, clad in black, unarmored, his coat thrown over his shoulders. He was reclining on the couch, a glass of dark wine in his hand. “Afternoon, love. Friend of yours?” he said and nodded towards the west window.

Lancer, poised on the opposite roof, a silhouette of blackness. Her head was a wavering smudge, half heat-distortion, half mad white grin, the only part of her not carved from obsidian. Hair a mass of slender tentacles snapping and jabbering at the air. Limbs deformed and spindly, lance jagged and pulsing with flame. She bent forward, as if peering, motionless save for her hair. Something like a spiked collar encircled her neck.

“Yes,” he said through the ice that coated his tongue. “The Lancer of the first Grail War.” That proud, sorrowful warrior. His hands were shaking: he clenched them, felt the runes on Excalibur’s hilt cut into his flesh. _Not the time, not the time, not the time._ “How long has she been here? More importantly--why does she not attack?”

“A few minutes, no more. As for why she’s not attacking--” To his shock, Lucius Tiberius rose, strolled towards the window. Knocked on it. Lancer remained still. “This is one-way glass. Technological, not magical, so there’s no way she can nullify it. We can see out, but she can’t see in. I’m not entirely certain she knows we’re in here, actually.”

“How could she not? Why else would she be here? Manaka may have been able to discern our location, thanks to her attack, though the shielding on this building alone should make it obvious that a Master is here--” 

Rider grinned at him. “Easy, love, easy. The shielding on this building hasn’t been touched since I was summoned. It’s always this way. My Master is one of the foremost mages in this city, and she’s never been shy about advertising her presence. So, absolutely nothing’s changed here as far as other magi can tell. One of the reasons I was using this as my primary base, in fact. Plus, my people know a few tricks that the magi of today don’t.” The grin faded and he sipped his drink. Turned to study Lancer. “As for Manaka Sajyou...she shouldn’t have been able to find out anything from Ayaka because the two of you were both unconscious when I brought you here, and have no idea where you are. This building is far from where we fought. And if our initial fight was observed and she tracked us back here, she’d have attacked us long since.”

Slowly, he nodded, eyes still on Lancer.

“Still, I think we’ll move--at least temporarily-- to one of the other bases.” Drink finished, he set the glass on a table. Came to Arthur, kissed him gently. “Unless, of course, this is all a ploy to get us to do exactly that,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll take that chance.”

Arthur, watching over Lucius Tiberius’ black-clad shoulder, saw Lancer straighten. He tensed and lifted Excalibur, felt rather than saw Florent appear in the Emperor’s hand. But all she did was return to a standing position.

Rider exhaled, a short, frustrated breath.“Too many variables right now to draw an accurate conclusion,” he said, a line forming between his eyes. “Coincidence? Observation? A message? Or was she just drawn here by the magic she could sense? Or--” An image like a clap of thunder, from the Emperor’s mind to his: Ayaka, innocently sleeping while her guardians idled away, wondering at Lancer--

He was already running. “A distraction,” he finished and flung open the door. Collided with something soft. “Ow!”

“Ayaka?” She was rubbing her nose and wincing as she sprawled on the carpet, green silk rucked up around her knees. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry!” 

She stared at him, not taking his offered hand. “Arthur? Is something going on?” The Emperor’s step, coming up behind him. “You’ve both got your swords out.”

 _Help her before he jumps in._ Quickly, he knelt, kissed her wounded nose. Helped her rise. “Unfortunately, yes,” he said quietly, and stepped back, his hand tight in hers, before motioning his wife to look.

Her cheeks went white. “Another Servant from the last War?” she whispered after a moment’s anxious study. “What’s it--how long--” 

“She. The former Lancer. Not long. And we are trying to figure that out ourselves.” 

A soft hiss. “How could...Manaka...do that to her? Is it because of the Grail?” She shuddered. “Or...did Manaka use the power of the Root...to somehow... _rearrange_ her...” 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Lucius Tiberius answered, his hand on her arm. “Could be your sister. Could be the Grail. But, sickening as it is, the only thing I care about at the moment is what kind of power that Lancer has.”

“In her last frenzy before death, she streaked across the sky like a comet and summoned a meteorite,” Arthur said quietly. “And that time she was trying, in some measure, to restrain herself.” Lancer’s grin, obliterating the rest of her face, fixed and crazed. “I do not think that she will do so now.”

He released Ayaka’s hand so she would not feel his shaking. The immensity of their task leaned upon him suddenly, a staggering weight. Himself and Lucius Tiberius, versus ten other Servants, six --perhaps seven, counting the freshly defeated Caster--of which had been suborned and likely twisted, with all their power, under a Master who cared for nothing other than him...

 _And if we should fail..._ He had thought about this, long and hard, whilst waiting for Ayaka to return to him. Thought of beasts that would devour the world once summoned, of old tales about the sacred lance, Rhongomyniad, which he had once wielded and put aside in favor of Excalibur. How it pierced the world and denied the gods, how, it was whispered, it could draw souls within its core, and keep them there, inviolate, for eternity. _If it becomes certain that we cannot win...then I would rather the souls of mankind be safe within Rhongomyniad than fodder for Manaka’s vile desires._

 _Ah, we’re getting very gloomy all of a sudden...This isn’t like you, Arthur Pendragon._ A sudden feeling of a pointed chin pressing into his hair, of warm, slender arms draped around his throat, but his glance showed only metal and blue cloth. _What happened to the man who said he’d fight on even if Britain was fated to be destroyed?_

 _Now, you come?_ he said, the shadow ebbing under the familiar tide of love and exasperation that spilled through him.

 _Well, it was funny watching you run around earlier. Besides, it’d be very boring for me if mankind went into cold storage for the rest of eternity._ Invisible wildflowers filled the air with their scent, but neither Ayaka nor Lucius Tiberius seemed to notice. _What’s brought this on? Big sister’s listening._

“If she’s just going to stand there, we should start preparing to leave,” the Emperor said besides him, “but I hate the thought of turning my back on her.”

_You know very well what. Failure has brought this on. Failure after failure after failure._

_Oh?_

_Have you forgotten? Despite my foolish pride, Britain could not be saved--_

_There was no way for you to win, that time. This time, you can._

“I agree with you,” he replied, his voice surprisingly normal, and quiet. “But we cannot stand here forever.”

_My false dreams. My folly over Manaka. My inability to destroy the Beast that first time--_

_You were in the middle of disappearing and you did a damn good job despite it all. Try again._

Ayaka shook off the Emperor’s hand and took a step forward. 

_What then of the ten Servants that must be subdued between the two of us? Rider alone took three._

An image of Merlin’s bright eyes, narrowed in laughter. _Who said there’s only going to be two of you?_

“I’m sorry,” Ayaka said, her eyes fixed on Lancer.

He started. “Ayaka?” he and Lucius Tiberius said together. She ignored them. Took another step. “Ayaka, wait--” 

Merlin rustled around him like a breeze. _Who said they’ll be fighting at full power? Bodies she may have, but minds and souls...oh, that’s a different matter. And, between you and me and the bedpost, Manaka Sajyou is having a little horticultural problem right now that’ll take her a while to clear up. You can thank me later._ A hand, gentle on his cheek. Twilight eyes smiling into his. _Worry doesn’t become you. Don’t fight battles before they’re fought. The past is gone, o king--well, most of it. And, by the way...you’re not the only one who can wield Excalibur. Just saying._ A kiss, soft as snow, to his forehead, and then she was gone, leaving nothing but riddles behind her.

There was no time for him to think, for Ayaka was before him, head held high, small and pale and beautiful as the heavens, and he saw the brilliance of Avalon and the queen who reigned there at his side. “I’m sorry, Lancer. I’m sorry my sister did this to you.” Her hands rose. Folded before her heart. “We’ll save you. You and everyone else Manaka’s corrupted. We’ll protect the world from her. I swear.”

Lancer’s head tilted, the movement almost invisible. A spark of blue flame leapt in the place where her heart should rest, raced through the rest of her body, furled about her like a phoenix’s wings. Ayaka stumbled back as they surged forward to cover her, holy blade and demonic blade as one, but Lancer continued to stand as if her feet were sown to the ground.

 _So kind..._ Her voice was no more than a whisper on the air, but they heard it, clear as light. _So kind. So kind, so kind, so kind..._

Ayaka’s hand found his once more, held him tightly. Her fingers were cold as snow, yet firm. “Time to go,” she said quietly. 

Lucius Tiberius opened his mouth as if to speak. Closed it again, his eyes on their hands. “Yes,” he finally said, and Florent’s edges rippled red. “Time for war.”

Together they went, Ayaka at his left, Excalibur in his right, and Lucius Tiberius trailing behind.

 

Dusk was falling, long grey shadows gently blanketing the world. In her tower, the mage Merlin propped her chin upon her bent knees, and watched. In one world, a king and queen with heavy hearts picked their way, hand in hand, through abandoned sewer tunnels, following an emperor: in the other, golden clouds of piri, pinpricks of fireflies, owls spreading their wings. Two golden heads moving in a flowery dip between emerald hills, two dark. Two red. A family, noisy and companionable, settling down to eat.

“There’s no need to worry,” she murmured, eyes constantly moving between light and dark. “Because you’ll take this filth, this ugliness, and weave something beautiful out of it in the end.”

Six wandering shadows and the corpse who frolicked in their midst. A young woman standing nude before a mirror, staring at the wings branded into her neck while her faithful hound waited for his next target. A mute giant, seated among tombstones as his master rambled about singing to himself, nasally off-key, and occasionally burst into laughter. A tower of thorns, springing from the center of a dark lake, and the black-veiled woman who paced there.

A princess, fluttering between her parents, laughing as her father raised his hands in apparent protest. A prince, teasing his sister as she rolled her eyes and bent back to her book.

A smile touched the mage’s lips. “All of them, waiting for love.”

In the field and in the sewer, the king raised his head as if listening, then drew his queen closer to his side.

“Go forth, o king, and bring it to them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it done.
> 
> i can't believe it's fucking done. i'm going to need to take a minute. probably many minutes actually. holy shit. this fic has been my companion for an entire year, consumed much of my waking thoughts and now i must release it like a lion kicking its cubs off a cliff and go forth to other things.
> 
> okay. okay. i said i was going to list everything that wasn't originally planned for this fic, didn't i.
> 
> well, basically everything that isn't the base plot of "lucius tiberius captures arthur and ayaka, they grudgingly agree to stay with him For The World, filthy sex ensures" wasn't planned. manaka wasn't planned. branwen wasn't planned. merlin sure as fuck wasn't planned but she elbowed her way in anyway, the bitch. the all-consuming angst wasn't planned. the sinister wedding ceremony wasn't planned. lucius tiberius wanting to make ayaka "eternal" wasn't planned. like 75% of the sex wasn't planned (there was a lot of filthy sex but not anywhere near the amount of filthy sex that actually happened). there's probably more that i've forgotten and i'll add it in later if i remember it.
> 
> when i first came up with the idea for this fic, i said to myself, 'oh, it's just a pwp, i'll probably be able to wrap it up in ten chapters or less, and i'm just going to write it and not worry about language or imagery or description or repeating myself, etc. etc." 
> 
> ha.ha.ha. 
> 
> pirlepet, sixteen chapters in: *frantically searching through thesaurus.com for yet another sex-related adjective* i must find yet another original way to describe orgasms or elseeeeeee.
> 
> yup.
> 
> anyway, jfc, i feel bad for arthur. i'm so awful to him and i love him and want nothing but his happiness but then i go and write this. i can't rag on sakurai for the unrelenting darkness of fragments anymore (nah, this still isn't as bad as fragments...i think). i'm half tempted to write some far future-set fluff in order to make it clear that everything is all right in the end, but. we'll see. poor bryn, too.
> 
> sequel. well. i'll be frank. i really want to write it. however, i have original work that i put aside while i was working on this and really feel i should get back to it. (no joke, i did a reading with one of my oracle decks about whether i should go back to the orig fic or continue with the sequel to this and it practically SCREAMED at me to go back to the orig fic. the other oracle deck was nicer about it and not so firm, but did say i should make sure i wasn't over-extending myself) 
> 
> i can't prioritize fanfic over my original stuff and seeing how long this took, i don't want to put off my original work for another long-ass time. yet i feel a kind of obligation to arthur and ayaka and everyone to write them a happy ending after they've made it through the fire that's awaiting them. all i can do is my best. though, if tm ever gets off their asses and releases anything relating to prototype...
> 
> i will probably do one shots though. they will probably be porn. when i said i was burnt out on porn, that lasted for about five seconds and i ended up saying to myself, "damn, i want to write some porn again but i have to finish the epilogue first."
> 
> i might go through the fic again and make small changes for wording, etc., but nothing major.
> 
> ah, it's time. 
> 
> thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who's read, who's commented, who's kudoed. i'm so happy you were here with me for this and i hope like hell you enjoyed the ride. i really appreciate every single one of you and i hope to see you again soon.


End file.
